


Weak

by failedfirebender



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Avatar & Benders Setting, Bending (Avatar), Firebending & Firebenders, Post-100 Year War (Avatar TV), Waterbending & Waterbenders, Zutara
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:01:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 30,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24186325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/failedfirebender/pseuds/failedfirebender
Summary: The threat of a coup hangs over the young Fire Lord's head. The council sees him as too young, too naive, too weak, but Zuko knows he can set things straight. Everything could be used against him, every feeling was weakness in a world craved in stone. And Katara made him feel; feel happy, confused and utterly stupid. She made his stomach sink and his head fly, his heart speed and his lips stutter. But over all of that, she made him strong.Katara has just woken up from a two-month-long coma, her body is weakened and her soul is lost in this war-free world. After a year traveling the world with the Avatar, home is a distant concept she no longer comprehends. But she understands fighting and doing what's right and the only place where she can do that now is the Fire Lord's Guard. But how close to Zuko can she get before her feelings get in the way of her duty?They are friends, and they have things that are way more important to deal with. But what if they can't help their feelings from growing out of control? What if she can't see past his amber eyes? What if he can't stop thinking about the curve of her smile?Maybe they are doomed, maybe they are blessed, all they know is they have a Nation to protect.
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar), Katara & Zuko (Avatar), Katara/Zuko (Avatar), Mai/Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Suki (Avatar)
Comments: 61
Kudos: 90





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: this fanfic is based on Avatar: the Last Airbender' show, but there might be some slight modifications to some events in the series in order to benefit the storyline. I repeat: these changes are SLIGHT.
> 
> A NEW CHAPTER EVERY FRIDAY

#  Prologue

“Don’t sleep in your room tonight”, Katara’s hand clenched to his arm; her nails digging into his skin. In her eyes, Zuko saw shadows moving, fears spiraling, the impecable determination of water flowing down a stream. She knew something. 

But she also hurt his pride and he was the Fire Lord. He was not giving in that easy. 

“Why wouldn’t I?” He snapped, freeing his arm from her grip, and she took a step back, stubborn look in her eyes. Oh, the things those big ocean eyes made him want to do... _Focus, Zuko_ “Just go back to Aang, would you? His monk patience is way better than mine at dealing with your crazy.” But he wanted so badly to be the one to deal with it every day, he so heavily desired to smash his lips against hers and erase that stubborn pout of her face. 

Katara’s eyes flashed with anger at the mention of the Avatar, but she still didn’t raise her voice. She was being cautious, and with every second going by, Zuko grew more and more nervous. Something was off. 

“Zuko,” his name in her lips made his arrogant act quaver, “just listen to me: don’t sleep on your bed tonight.”

“I don’t have any reasons to listen to you,” and with that, he turned around, or tried to. Katara’s hand grabbed him by the elbow, forcing him to turn back, and her other hand grabbed his face. She moved so fast and so close, he thought their lips were going to meet again, but she stopped abruptly, almost as if she had calculated her effect over him, so near, he could see the palest tones of icy blue like sparkling diamonds in her ocean eyes. 

There he was, Fire Lord, in his own castle, a powerful bender, and still, unable to move as soon as her eyes crashed with his. He didn’t look away, he challenged her, keeping his chin up, his eyes cold. He wanted her to know he was strong, and fatal and honored. He didn’t need her. 

But at the same time, he just wished to end the distance between them, and have himself melt in her lips all over again. 

As she spoke, the spell intensified. He was no longer choosing to hold her gaze, he just couldn’t do otherwise. “You may be ashamed about yesterday, and I assure you, I have my own feelings around what happened too,” _“My own feelings”? What does that even mean?_ , “but tonight someone is going to try and kill you, and as much as that could make everything easier for me, I am a member of the Fire Lord’s guard and can not let that happen.”


	2. Wake Up

#  Wake Up

He walked out of the room, steps firm, head raised high, his uncle by his side. His muscles felt stiff and his head ached. He could barely remember when he last had a good sleep. He kept walking like that for a while, until his uncle cached up with him and the ministers were a whole corridor away.

His facade fell with a tired sigh, his shoulders finally giving in. His hands went up to untie his hair, but he stopped himself; the Fire Lord always had his hair up, face to the view of everyone. He wasn’t ashamed of showing the reddish scars that took over his face; the whole world knew his story, and he knew it too. It was a part of him he had embraced. But he did feel exposed with his face showing like that. When he was the banished prince, he discovered that leaving his messy hair free, falling over his eyes, was excellent help at hiding emotions. Now he never stopped thinking of how everybody would see if the slightest hint of hesitation showed on his face.

Spirits, it was hard enough to pretend to be strong when he was a lost little boy searching for the Avatar. Now he was Fire Lord – he had been for the last two months – and he had to pretend for his whole nation. If he showed weakness, every single noble would be out for his head, if he made one wrong step, millions would suffer the consequences, if he failed to restore his nation’s honor… he didn’t like to think about that.

“Fire Lord Zuko, you don’t look good,” his uncle, Iroh, commented.

Zuko turned to him with a tired smile on his lips, “Well thank you, uncle, for the flattery.” Iroh’s eyes turned mellow, wrinkles deepening at their sides as his smile grew on his face.

Zuko liked to think he had inherited his uncle’s eyes, even when he deep down knew they were his father’s. Whenever he looked into Iroh’s amber irises, he was greeted with kindness, wisdom, and patience. Lots of patience. There had never been anyone who was as skilled as Iroh in the art of standing by him. Even after Zuko mistreated him, defied him, and betrayed him, his uncle had always been by his side. Zuko would never be able to pay his debt to him, but it was fine. He knew now, family was unconditional; true family, at least, was.

“You are welcome, Zuko. But I insist you rest more” _If that only were an option…_ “Come with me, let’s go get some tea-” 

Zuko cut him off mid-sentence, “I can’t, you know that.” 

His uncle’s expression, unlike many other times the topic was brought up, didn’t shadow. It glowed, with the calm that so often scared Zuko, because it gave him hope, and one could only handle their hopes being broken a few times before they completely fell apart. 

“What is it?” suddenly, he forgot the sore feeling of his muscles under the luxurious robes that dressed him, he forgot about absolutely everything, “Did she…?” 

His uncle barely begun to nod, before Zuko was running down the halls towards her. It didn’t matter how badly the scar in his chest burned with every step, or how easily he begun to sweat, it didn’t even matter that he was Fire Lord and he was supposed to act like it. All he could think off, was that Katara was finally awake. 

~ 

When he pushed the door open, the last thing he expected, was to find Aang sitting by the end of the bed, making grand gestures with his hands and loud noises. Katara looked at Zuko, and her eyes softened. 

They both stared at him, and he realized what of a mess he probably looked lie. Out of breath, threads of hair falling off his bun, untidy robe... he should’ve stopped to clean up before coming in and he definitely should’ve knocked. 

Aang was cut off in the middle of a sentence. 

He was the avatar, a master of all four elements, the one who had defeated Ozai, also known as the previous Fire Lord, the biggest emperor of all times, and Zuko’s father. It was hard to acknowledge that the bald, skinny thirteen-year-old monk, was the most powerful creature in the four nations. Especially when he was looking at Zuko, with the biggest smile shinning below his cheery gray eyes. 

“Zuko! Katara is awake!”, he exclaimed, moving a hand through the sheets so that it would grab Katara’s. Yet the girl deviated her eyes and pulled slowly away. The Avatar didn’t even notice, “She is back!” 

“I can see.” That was not what he had planned to say all those nights staying up until dawn, imagining that exact moment. But things never seemed to go the way he planned them, so he hid it decently. 

_She is back_ , the boy had said. And it made sense, because even when she was never truly gone, the last two months felt black and sore, and every day Katara was asleep, the more they wondered if she was ever going to be back. Back on her feet, back with her motherly love and unbreakable sense of honor. 

“You look tired,” Katara finally spoke, and Zuko couldn’t describe the feeling in his stomach when she did. Her voice was raspy and delicate at the same time, her skin no longer dead-grey, her eyes, big bright blue oceans, were looking back at him with worry. 

“Yeah, you should go nap for a while,” Zuko was startled by the monk’s voice. He had completely forgotten of his presence. 

He shook his head, “So they keep telling me.” He wanted to step forward, sit next to Katara, and... well, he was not sure of what he’d do. He just wanted to be close to her. But that didn’t seem like the appropriate thing to do. He needed to say something else, anything to stop thinking stuff like that, “So, how you’ve been?” His hand slapped his forehead before he even realized how stupid his question had been. 

_“How you’ve been?” She’s been two months asleep, what on Earth could’ve happened to her?_

Katara’s laugh was weak, compared to what it used to be, and Aang’s was so loud, it was hard to hear anything past it. Yet, Zuko saw the smile on her face and knew he would’ve repeated his stupid words for a lifetime. Spirits, he’d missed her smile. He’d missed her everything for two months, and he had no idea of when she became such an important person in his life. 

“See?”, Sokka’s voice interrupted the conversation, he had entered the room somewhen between the mess, with a tray in his hands, “Nothing’s changed much. Zuko is still _real_ smooth at social interaction.” Zuko shot him a death-glare, but this were his friends and, even with the Fire Lord title upon his head, they were not even slightly intimidated by him. Eventually, he gave in with a sided smile. 

“What’s wrong?” the question left Zuko’s lips as soon as his eyes fell upon the Water-Tribe girl. She was holding back something, with a looped smile that was not truly happy. 

The laughter stopped, and Sokka stepped forward, laying the tray on the nightstand. He kneeled next to his sister, smiling goofily. “You are not going to cry now, are you, Katara?” 

Zuko was about to say something, but she was faster. 

“No, you monkey face,” the Fire Lord’s grin returned; two months fighting for her life was not enough to bring down her fierce attitude, “I just...” She left a sigh out, “Things did change, and as much as I’d like to pretend they didn’t, I’ve missed a lot.” Her eyes drifted down to her hands. Once again, Aang seemed to look out for them, but she quickly moved them away, taking the glass of water her brother had brought. She didn’t take it to her lips, though. 

“Kata-” 

“Aang,” she interrupted him with a kind smile, “Sokka is marrying Suki, who is a Fire Lord Guard.” She paused, and Zuko noticed how her hand fell over the injured side of her body. She was struggling to talk. “Toph is apparently on it, too, and Zuko...” Her eyes met his, the waters in them too disturbed for him to be able to read anything, and he realized that she was, for the first time, seeing him in royal robes, hair tied up on a bun, and golden ornaments shining in his wait and shoulders, a real Fire Lord. It was no longer a distant dream, it was true, it was now. And if he hadn’t even finished processing it, he could barely imagine how she was taking all in. 

“Well that is not technically true,” he quickly said “The coronation has been on hold since the battle.” 

To this, Katara’s eyes looked at him curiously. “What? Why?” 

_Because I want you there_ , the words hung from the tip of his tongue, _because if it weren’t for you’ I’d be dead, and there’d be no Fire Lord to crown_. But he was too conscious of the other two people in the room to say them out loud. 

Instead, he looked away, heading for the nearest window and moving the curtains aside. Golden sunlight drained the darkness in the room. The sun was setting behind the city and the sea. 

“It’s just better,” he managed to say. 

“So, are you eating that toast or...” 

“Sokka!”, Aang reprehended him. 

Sometimes it made Zuko uncomfortable, watching them from afar, like an outsider. It reminded him of what he had with Azula, his sister, when they were only little toddlers, before they both became powerful benders. Sokka, Katara and Aang, they were what brothers looked like. He wondered if perhaps one day, he’d be a part of it too. 

The door opened, interrupting Aang’s and Sokka’s screaming. It was Suki and Toph. It was still strange to see them dressed in red Guard uniforms. He might never get used to it; a Kyoshi warrior whose town he’d destroyed and an earthbender, his friends, in his palace, pledged to protect him till their last breath was suck out of their bodies. 

“Morning, Sugar Queen,” the bender said. Her crystal eyes on Katara, even if her blindness didn’t allow her to see, arms crossed over her chest, “I see you’ve decided to give up your laziness and join us.” 

“Oh, come on!” Sokka whined, as he stood up to wrap an arm around his fiancé's waist. “How come I didn’t come up with that one!” 

Suki smiled, resting her head on his shoulder, “I’m sure you made a pretty annoying joke of your own.” 

“Thank you!” 

Zuko ignored them, sometimes Sokka was too stupid for his own good. His gaze settled on the old healer that entered right after the duo and stood aside, waiting for her moment to speak. 

He felt constantly intimidated by the power he held, but he had no choice other than to live up to it. So as soon as he saw the humpback woman, with her raisin-like skin, standing by the door, he straightened up and left friendly Zuko behind. 

He was going to be different from all the rulers the Fire Nation ever saw. He was going to be kind, but firm, just and respectful. Respectful over all. He’d already freed all prisoners, put on collaboration plans to help the other nations restore themselves and imprisoned all who acted against free will. He was doing his best. He was going to clean his name, recover the honor of his family and his nation. 

“Healer, speak your name and intentions,” his friends were silenced instantly. He felt all of their eyes on him. They weren’t used to seeing him act like anything but silent, droky Zuko, another buffoon of their awfully skilled group of warriors. He didn’t like being like that around them. Only Suki and Toph ever saw that side of him, when he gave orders to the Guard. But he didn’t look away from the woman. 

When she bowed, and Zuko noticed she was afraid to look him in the eye. 

He hated his father, he hated his grandfather and all his predecessors, for laying this curse over him. All his life he was told people admired the Fire Lord, that they worshiped him. It was nothing but lies. The citizens of the Fire Nation saw the power he held, feared him like they feared a maddened Spirit, and their voices trembled whenever they had to speak in front of him. How was he ever supposed to make things right like that? 

“My Lord,” the lady said, “I’m Usak the healer, shall I request for Master Katara to be left to her rest? It’s time for her healing sessions, and she needs to recover.” 

“I’ve been sleeping for months,” Katara interfeered. 

“Don’t-”, the Avatar was ignored. 

“The last thing I need is rest,” she tried to push herself into more of a sitting position on the bed, but her face betrayed her, pain taking over her features. Her arms gave in and she feel right back in her place with a choked scream. Suki rushed to her side, offering her the water glass by her night stand. Katara refused, stubbornly, her cheeks reddened with anger, her eyes stuck shamefully on her hands. Yet she spoke no more, knowing she had lost her shot. 

Zuko’s heart shrined at the sight of her like that. If Azula hadn’t hit her with lighting, if he had been faster, he had only seen that coming, he could’ve spared them all this pain. Katara was the greatest waterbender he had ever seen; her power was as terrifying as it was beautiful, an expression of life able to kill. Now, all that power was stuck in that bed, barely strong enough to move. 

“Everybody out,” he stated, “Katara needs to recover her strength.” 

No arguments were heard. The Avatar was the last one to leave, laying a soft kiss on her cheek before doing so. Zuko quickly pulled his gaze away, not wanting to look like a snitch, not wanting to look at all. Aang was a matter of mixed feelings for him, despite having cleared themselves of old rivalries, Zuko couldn’t get rid of the jealousy it caused him to see Aang’s life be so pleasantly easy. 

Usak, made her way to the bed as Zuko turned to follow the rest. 

His hand was on the open door, but he was stone-still. He couldn’t leave just like that, he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep if he didn’t say something, anything. 

He looked over his shoulder, face as expressionless as he could manage it to be, Katara was already looking at him, her curious orbs met the amber of his. “I’ll come by tomorrow, same hour as usual.” He cut the connection between their eyes, turning his back fully on her. He knew that if he didn’t, her eyes would’ve pulled out more truths than he was willing to speak. “I am glad that you are fine.” He said, stepping out, “I truly am.” 

_“Glad”? Such heart-warming words! Spirits, you couldn’t be colder if you tried too._

He would’ve loved to shut his thoughts off sometimes, but over it all, he would’ve loved to have the courage to speak the words he truly wished to speak. 

_Tomorrow_ , he told himself, _tomorrow will be._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Tumblr: @Failedfirebender


	3. Memories

#  Memories

Katara woke up dizzy and, just like the day before, the red tapestries and walls that surrounded her made her shriek. She sat up fast, alert, ready to attack, but agonizing pain struck her body. It  burned ; her skin burned like a thousand fires were lit inside the right side of her back, and she fell back against the pillows, remembering it was not a thousand fires but one strike of blue lightning. 

Usak quickly attended her side – how long had she been there? -  telling her to calm down, reminding her all over again she was safe. But she didn’t feel safe. She felt weak and lonely. 

The memories hurt almost as much as her wound. 

After Zuko’s and Azula’s Agni Kai spiraled out of control, the younger sister breaking every rule of the sacred duel by attacking  Katara , the  waterbender managed to  apprehend her. 

It was the hardest battle she ever fought,  Katara knew that. What she didn’t know was what happened. In her head, Zuko jumped in front of her, and after that, it was all a blur of loath. Azula had aimed at her, that she could take, but the blue lightning ended up hurting her friend. And he fell to the floor, right in front of her, pale and motionless. She had the faint memory of the brawl, the effort it took her to outsmart Azula even when the  firebender was clearly not in her right mind, how hard it was to focus knowing that Zuko’s was barely grasping on to his life  only a few feet away from her. 

Next thing she knew, Azula was struggling with the knots that tied her hands and she was using her healing abilities on Zuko, praying to all the existing Spirits for him to come back. She only remembered feeling like that once: when Aang died. A desperation that crawled up her throat and made air feel like  smoke round her. But Zuko wasn’t dead, she kept reminding herself as she pulled him up in her arms, he was alive. He  _ had  _ to be. 

And he was. Instants later, he was moving, stiffly, and with  indescribable pain in his eyes, but moving.  Katara could feel the blood flowing in his veins and the  uneven respiration  rushing in and out through his lips. His eyes bored into her, amber shining almost gold in them, for the first time,  Katara saw them clearly, a thousand  million emotions dashing through them  untameably ... like fire. 

They smiled at each other. He was ok. They were ok. 

There was another blank space right after that, she guessed it was a couple hours long. 

Her next memory was of a group of guards,  encircling someone, she  led them down dusty stairs, barely illuminated. Fire Nation Guards, being  led by a Water-Tribe girl. The more she thought about it, the more ridiculous it seemed.

Behind them, walked Zuko. Even when  Katara insisted on him resting, he wanted to make sure Azula was put right where she belonged, in the farthest cell in the castle, at least until she could be sent to the Prison Tower. Katara couldn’t blame him for it. After everything his sister put him through, he wanted the job finished once and for all. 

Once they reached the cell, the guards were dismissed and Azula’s body, was carried and locked behind the gates. She seemed... normal. With her eyes closed – Zuko had knocked her out when they realized she wouldn’t stop screaming – and her body scattered like a rag doll. Despite everything she did to make their lives living hell,  Katara couldn’t feel anything but sorry for the princess.  Incarcerated , crazy, without a single friendship, or a single feeling other than hatred within her. Maybe if they had reached out to her sooner, driven her away of the madness that run through her family, away from the mess of royalty and war, she would’ve been better; she would’ve been happy. 

Zuko stood still, hand on his chest. With the guards gone, he didn’t bother hiding his pain. Something in  Katara melted as she realized she trusted her enough to be weak around her. 

She walked towards him, putting a hand carefully on his shoulder, his eyes, fixed on Azula, jumped to hers. Again, emotions took over them.  Katara couldn’t help but wonder if they were always there, if perhaps she was the one who failed to see them before. 

“It’s over,” she said to him, reassuring smile on her face. 

He looked away.

“Not yet, we don’t know anything about my fa-  Ozai , yet.” 

Katara tried to hide the shiver that went up her spine.

“ Aang can make it,” she squeezed his shoulder tighter, “we have to believe he can.”

Out of the prince’s mouth came something that sounded like a repressed scoff – she couldn’t tell if it was intentional or the pain interrupted him -, ironic half-smile on his face. “I bet believing in him  _ really  _ helps.”

Katara crossed her arms, leaving her kindness behind. Her  muscles complained .  Waterbending took way more strength than anyone could ever imagine. She noted that on her mind as something she needed to do; get stronger. “You just can’t fight your helpless teenage boy comments, can you?” And even when she was trying to stay strong, they both shared another smile. 

In stories, people saw death in slow motion, they recalled the moment in details and said goodbye. It wasn’t like that for  Katara . The only thing in her mind was Zuko’s horrified look, the way he tried to reach for her arm, and then... then everything went black. 

~

Usak wouldn’t let  Katara heal herself, telling her that she was too weak to do it. And  Katara couldn’t argue with that. Even when she hadn’t seen herself in a mirror yet, she felt her cheekbones sharper, and could see her bony hands, the skin of her body sucked around her skeleton.

But she wanted to stand up, otherwise, she was  going to go crazy. 

Zuko had told her he was coming back today, “same hour as usual.” Did that mean he came by regularly? Mabe even  daily ? How was she supposed to know what hour was “same as usual”? She asked  Usak , but she didn’t know either. 

This meant  Katara was stuck in her enormous chambers, tied up to that bed with her own thoughts until that hour hit. And she said “with her thoughts” because the healer was the least talkative person she’d ever been with. No matter how hard she tried to do some small talk, the woman shut her off with  monosyllables and bored gazes. All she could do was think and think and think, her brain was going to start smoking any second now. 

“I’ll be back in a while, don’t leave your bed.”  Usak suddenly announced.

“Where are you-” The healer closed the door abruptly, leaving  Kartara’s sentence incomplete. She frowned. “Well that’s just rude.” 

The water bender looked around her. The bed’s  canopy was red, and the golden posts that held it were craved with  intricate designs of flames and flowers, colliding in an  unsettling , yet somehow  beautiful, pattern. It looked like something that would’ve been done in the Earth Kingdom. She had studied it for hours, just like she had the cushioned chairs with tall backrests, the wide windows covered by curtains, and the wide doors that  incarcerated her. There were two of them, one to her left, that lead to the castle’s hallways, and another that she  had never seen past through. 

She didn’t think too much before pulling the blankets away and sitting up straight.  Usak might not be the most warm-hearted person with her tiny black eyes and  expressionless face, but she sure knew how to do her job. With every healing session – creams and potions were spread through over  Kartara’s wound – she felt better. Still, when she pulled  herself to her feet, using her night-stand to help herself, her teeth clenched, and she fell against the wall, barely saving herself from hitting the floor.

She straightened up, her cheeks  colored red. Even with nobody watching, it was so  humiliating to be that vulnerable. Two months  ago, she wielded incredible power, now, she had barely enough to sustain the weight of her body.

With stiff, slow steps, she moved towards the door. The time it took her to get to it could’ve been an eternity, and opening it, felt like someone stabbing the burned skin of her back and twisting the knife. When it clicked  open, she didn’t let go of the handle. She remained still, putting all of her weight on it, grasping for air. 

It was all worth it,  Katara knew, as she pulled it fully  open . 

Dusk was taking over, the golden light of the sun  reaching to her skin like a kiss. When she looked outside, her eyes  watered up, but she didn’t allow the tears to roll down her face. 

She was in the tallest tower of the palace, in a balcony, and at her feet was Capital City. Trillions of tinny houses and people, as small as ants, moved down there. She already knew they’d won the war, but it wasn’t until then, that it felt  truly real. Peace had been restored in the four kingdoms, they had defeated the Fire Lord and now... and now they were free, and  Katara had no idea of how to feel about it. 

“ Katara !” the voice felt distant, almost otherworldly, “ Katara what happened?!” 

_ What happened,  _ _ Katara _ _?,  _ the poisoned voice in her head kept feeding her questions, and the more it asked, the loudest it became.  _ What happened in the last two months? Who are you now? Where are you going to go? Are you going to say yes? Are you going to say no? Will you break his heart? Will you ever be strong again? What happened,  _ _ Katara _ _?  _ She was laughing at her, it was Azula’s voice. _ Look at you, _ she  said, in _ the Fire Nation’s Capital, leaving next to all you once swore to  _ _ destroy. _

“ Katara look at me!” Fingers  grabbed the sides of her face. They were not delicate, they were clumsy, and their grip was too strong, as they forced her eyes away of the city, and into a  well-known face. Half of it, scorched by fire, the other half holding a beauty she never noticed before. His features were deformed by  concern , tensed with  confusion . Yet, they were warm and comforting. 

Azula’s voice was gone.

Just then, she realized she had fallen to her knees, the tears still stung, contained on her eyes,  blurring her sight.

“I don’t know,” she whispered, eyes uncappable of holding her friend’s, worried gaze. She leaned forward, her forehead resting against Zuko’s chest. She thought right under it was probably a scar. A scar left because he protected her, because he saved her.  _ He had enough scars before you,  _ _ Katara _ _ , don’t you think? _ She shook her head, desperate to shut Azula’s voice  off . “ I-” her voice broke, and she closed her eyes as strong as she could, as if not seeing the present could take her back in time to dodge that lightning. “I don’t know...” 

A few seconds went by before Zuko’s hands dared touch her. She hated that, that he was treating her like she was porcelain and might break at the slightest touch. She hated it because it was true. But she completely forgot about it as soon as his fingers slid  between hers, his skin felt so hot against hers, she flinched. Grabbed on to him with all her strength, as his other hand shily fell on her hair. At  first he didn’t do anything, but he slowly begun to move it up and down, and then he grabbed it almost desperately, and held her tight against his chest. 

None of them said anything else. Silently, they watched the night cast  its shadows over Capital City. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK I KNOW I WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO UPLOAD UNTIL FRIDAY BUT I COULDN'T HELP MYSELF.   
> First of al, what do you think of post-super-traumatic-coma Katara? What do you think in general? I love having feedback to get better so feel free to share :)))
> 
> Seconddly, I'd like to know how you ended up here, reading this fanfic. Did you find it on Tumblr? Did you stumble unpon it while searching for new fics on AO3? Did a friend recommend it to you? If you left your answer on the comments, that'd be great! Thank you :)
> 
> _______________________________________
> 
> Follow me on tumblr: @failedfirebender


	4. Sorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and constructive criticizm are always welcome!

#  Sorry

As much as Katara tried to resist, Zuko ended up helping her walk to bed. She didn’t let him carry her though, and he was kind of glad-kind of frustrated about her being so stubborn. It was proof that her spirit was still strong, even if her body hadn’t cached up with it yet. Plus, he was not sure of how he would’ve carried her without touching her injury. 

He had seen it. That day, in the dungeons, as Katara was struck by Azula’s lightning, he saw her body fall almost lifeless to the stone flor. A dump noise was heard, and Zuko thought that was the noise the world would make if it ever broke down. The clothes of her back pulverized, on the right side of her back, skin was melted and blood poured from the gigantic blister. He had seen lots of blood, he had _lived_ surrounded by bloodshed, but never had he felt his ribs shrink like that; so tight around his heart, that with every beat the muscle slid through the impossibly thin slits, that it felt like it might implode in his chest. 

Instead, he allowed her to cling from his shoulder, and heard her respiration accelerate, her skin already sweaty, after the second step. 

What happened? The question popped again in his mind, but given they were both short of answers, he swallowed it. Right now, all that mattered was getting Katara back to rest. He couldn’t bare having her by his side trying to act tough, repressing the painfilled groans in her throat. 

“Hold still,” he said as they reached the side of the bed. For a second, he hesitated, but then he moved to the other side of her body, so that he could grab her waist as he helped her sit on the bed. 

He didn’t look into her eyes, not once, as his hand slid through her left shoulder blade, leaning her back over the red pillows. A little growl left her mouth in complaint, and he fell for it, had he hurt her? His mortified eyes jumped to her face, searching for any sign of pain. But then he found two shimmering ponds looking back at him, and forgot completely about anything else. Even in the dark, he noticed how her face flushed violently. He bolted away, scratching the back of his neck. 

_Whywhywhywhywhywhywhyyyyyy_ _are you like this?_

He turned to the bedside snapping his fingers to light on the candle that hung from the wall right over the night stand. It was a mere excuse to do something that made the silence settled feel less excruciating, but he realized as the dim illumination took the space between them, they had been almost in complete darkness. It didn’t seem like an appropriate thing to do, for the Fire Lord to be in dark chambers with a lady. 

Even when he had been in that room with her every single day at the same hour for the last two months, a healer had always been there, and he never said a word. He knew Aang did. One of the first times Zuko came by, he heard the monk whispering something about hope and needing her in Katara’s ear. That was the only day Zuko didn’t visit her, ignoring how his heart ached as he traced his steps back to his cold chambers. What could he do, anyways? The Avatar was good. Good with words, good with people, good with and for Katara, and he would help her get better. Yet, and in spite of being absolutely certain of it, the following night he was back at Katara’s side. A safe distance away, in one of the throne-like chairs, looking at her chest barely moving, just to make sure she was still breathing. He stayed there through the night, even after the healer fell asleep in her own chair, with his eyes wide open. Too scared to close them and miss her last breath. 

Still, Katara wasn’t just any lady. She was his friend, and the Master waterbender that saved his life. 

“Thank you.” He looked at her, not really comprehending where that came from. She smiled kindly, such a Katara thing to do he felt light-headed. “For helping me.” Her cheeks were still blushing. 

Zuko moved to turn a chair around so that it would face the bed, but he didn’t push it closer. 

He shrugged, sitting down. “I guess I could’ve left you there, but you ruined the views,” the words came out weird from his lips, but Katara giggled. His shoulders relaxed a bit. 

“Seriously, that is quite a view.” Her eyes were fixed on the still open doors at his back. 

“Yeah, watch the sun set every single day and it still feels surreal to know that this city is only the tiniest portion of the Fire Nation... My nation...” 

“You seem to be doing just fine,” she mocked, “sitting all high and square shoulders back.” Just then, he realized she was right. He was stiff, in the same guarded position he kept during the Council meetings. Because Katara made him feel like he had something to hide, or worse, like he had something really wanted to show, and he couldn’t allow himself to surrender to his impulses. He was Fire Lord now, and he had to act with his head cold, now more than ever. 

Still, he relaxed on the chair, allowing himself to lean towards one of the arms and rest his head over his palm. “Guess two months as Fire Lord is enough to make anyone feel like they have a stick up their ass”, it was meant to sound like a joke, but Katara seemed to see the truth behind it. 

“Harder than you thought it would be, huh?” Surprisingly, the compassion that took over her face didn’t anger Zuko, but made him unsure. He hadn’t talked with anyone about how filling his father’s shoes was consuming him. About his sleepless nights staring at the ceiling, thinking about the unwritten pages of his future. Talking about it would make it too real, make him way too weak. But Katara made him wonder if perhaps, in that barely illuminated room, he could give himself the chance to give in to that weakness. 

Of course, he came back to his senses on time, and shot her a sided smile. 

“Not really,” he replied, “I mean, the war just ended. Years of tyranny and injustice can’t be _forgotten_ in such a brief period of time, but we’re working for it to be forgiven... at some point at least. We’ve already retreated troupes from almost everywhere, handing their cities back to the rebels. We’ve sent and invited ambassadors to and from everywhere, to help with repairs and make peace. We are setting things straight.” He had to believe they were. “Tomorrow I should...” He shook his head, realizing he had gotten lost in his own thoughts, “Sorry, you don’t really need me listing my complete schedule.” 

Katara had something in her eyes, something Zuko had seen before but only directed to others. To Aang, when he showed her his new firebending moves, to Sokka, every time he showed he could be not as much of an imbecil as he usually was. She was proud, and that gave him a fulfillment he didn’t know he needed. 

“Ok, maybe it is not as easy as it looked from the outside,” he admitted, “there is just _so_ much paper work.” He buried his face in his hands dramatically achieving his goal when both of them fell into an easy laugh. 

It didn’t last long though. Katara tried to hide it, but the muscles her face contracted, and her fingers dug into the mattresses, giving her away. Next he could tell, he was sitting by her side, her fingers weakly holding his hand, despite her making use of all the strength in her body. 

He’d liked it better when their fingers were intertwined in the terrace, and he had the courage to pull her into his chest, the breezy perfume of her hair flooding his senses as he buried his face in it. Obviously, he didn’t say that, instead he focused on their hands. If he knew anything about feelings, it was that when they lashed out erratically, it was hard to have someone else watch. And Katara couldn’t control the pain, or the hustling memories that assaulted the dark corners of her mind. So, he chose to let her know that even in the deepest silence, he was there for her. 

The grip slowly loosened around his hand, but it didn’t let go, and even after five whole minutes he didn’t pull away. He ignored the little voice in his head telling him he should. He didn’t want to. He really wanted to stay there, feeling the dead-cold touch of Katara’s skin against his. 

“You are not ok.” The words fell from his lips, his head still down, focused on the hands that rested on his lap, the girl’s respiration turning suddenly silent, “You want us to believe you are, because you think that it’s your duty to take care of everyone else.” Now he turned to her; frown over his forehead. But Katara’s deer eyes – for spirits sake, those eyes –, broken and courageous at the same time, bore right into his and his gesture softened. “And it is ok. I get it, you need to be the person everyone expects you to be.” For a second, he paused. He could stop right there, end it or swirl the speech in another direction. But he had come this far and was not retreating. “But _I_ don’t expect anything from you. I owe my every breath to you, and all I have to offer is a thank you and an apology.” She opened her mouth, but he didn’t let her speak, “Wait, I’ve been wanting to say this for quite some time.” She squeezed his hand, and he knew he had her attention. “I am sorry. I am so sorry that I put you in the position I did by asking you to come with me to fight Azula, for risking your life like that. It was selfish of me and I’d take it back if I could. And then in the dungeons...” He closed his eyes. The memories of Azula’s hyena-like laughter as Katara fell, the thump of her body hitting the floor, the way his blood went solid, like ice had frozen in his veins, the smile they shared right before it happened... it was too much to handle. “I should’ve been faster, able to push you away or do anything to stop her- it- I just don’t want you to pretend with me- I am so very sorry- I- Listen-” 

“Zuko,” her voice was almost a whisper, but it put an instant stop to his spiraling thoughts. The hand that had been holding his instants earlier, laid on his back. At some point, he had turned around, burying his hands in his disastrous mane. The bun had disappeared somewhere in the middle and strands of black hair framed the sides of his face. “You owe me nothing. What sense would have winning the war if my friends couldn’t be here now, with me?” Slowly, he turned around, she was smiling. It was the first time she ever called him her friend, and he couldn’t help but smile too. “I was the one to give my back to Azula, to let my guard down. How could you ever think I’d blame you for it? You of all people, who jumped in front of lightning for me already once, that same day. I know you can only make one good choice every couple years.” She tried to punch his arm with camaraderie but her muscles failed her and barely made contact before falling back to her lap. He didn’t comment on it. Nor he asked about the way he saw her collapse to her knees in the terrace, memories of the day at the dungeons bombarding his head. 

“Guess we’ll have to wait quite a lot for the next one, uh?” He joked instead. It felt weird, wanting so desperately to make someone smile. 

“You’re back at chasing us all over the globe?” she raised an eyebrow. 

_If it took me right back to this moment, perhaps I would_

_No, what? Shut that off_

He shook his head, clearing those thoughts off and ignoring Katara’s intrigued expression. 

“To what end? I am Fire Lord now, aren’t I?” 

“Talking about Fire Lord, how does that work?” Zuko’s smile was immediately cut off as he looked away from her. Katara quickly added, “I meant this pending coronation thing... but just a side note, if you ever need anyone to talk to, I’d be _honored_ to be there for you.” 

“Oh, cut it with the honor jokes!” He joined her giggles with faked anger and a loop in the corner of his mouth. “You are just as annoying as Sokka!” The waterbender didn’t say anything, but she nodded to make sure he got the message. He nodded back. “Anyways, the coronation plans have been just put to motion this morning.” He announced. “I am Fire Lord already, the title was mine the moment Ozai and Azula were defeated.” The word brought a bittersweet taste to his mouth. “It’s just the ceremonial part of it that was missing, but now everything is getting in motion. We should be celebrating a couple weeks from now at the most.” 

He wondered if Katara thought of him as a monster, who had been challenged and had challenged his own family to an Agni Kai. A soulless being who’d imprison whoever came in between him and power. That wasn’t true. He knew that all he’d ever wanted was to proof himself worthy of his family’s love, their approval. But then he realized he couldn’t chase a fantasy, that everything he once stood for, he couldn’t bare anymore, and decided he was giving the world back all his family had stolen from it. The Avatar had restored balance, now it was his turn to restore his nations honor. Until that exact moment, next to the skinny Water-Tribe girl, he’d never cared for how others might see the story. 

"It looks like you could use some celebrating.” 

“Oh no,” he replied with a grin. She had definitely been out for a long time. Everybody knew Zuko barely had time for anything, all day running from a place to another. He didn’t care though, it kept his mind busy, made his late nights bearable. He was fine. He had to be fine. “I’ll attend long enough and then go back to the damn paperwork...” 

She smirked, and he knew what was coming. 

“Is that paperwork supposed to restore your _honor_?” 

“I’m really regretting this visit.” 

“No, you are not.” 

Her eyes shimmered happily, and the mesmerizing view of her face, even when swollen and haggard, made darkness brighter and winter warmer. 

He smiled. 

“No, I’m not.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: @failedfirebender
> 
> Weekly update! what do you think? This will be one of the last Zuko-Katara one-to-one conversations in a while, as I need to advance with the plot because otherwise you'll kill me. SO DON'T. I promise the story will start getting interesting in the next chapter.


	5. Blood

#  Blood

Three days had passed, and  Katara was tired of sitting around. All she did was sleep, eat, have healing sessions and do “exercise” - of course, this was way too far from what she used to considered real exercise to be, and yet, it made her suffer way more. She had taken down the Fire Nation’s princess, but being stuck in that room, made her feel that she was the one that lost it all. 

Her right arm was incapacitated by her back wound, so bending was an equivalent to dreadful pain, laughing too much made the muscles overcharge and eventually bleed, reading made her dizzy, talking made her throat run instantly dry, even breathing made her back sting.

“ _ What sense would have winning the war if my friends couldn’t be here now, with me? _ ”, she had told Zuko three days ago. She wanted him to smile, that was all that mattered at that moment. It would help no one if she confessed, how terribly frightening it was to see how they all moved on, found their places, formed new lives in only two months... like  _ they  _ were the ones who won the war without  _ her _ . 

She needed to get out, she needed to get to know the world was being rebuilt, help her friends, take back the reins of her life, not sit still depending on someone else to go to the bathroom. And in order to get all of those things in motion, she needed to heal, and in order to heal, she needed to use  _ her  _ healing, and she couldn’t. Not with Usak in the room. 

The healer was a quiet lady, her face  usually expressing absolute nothingness or, at the most, boredom, and she sat all day in one of the chairs, looking to the wall in front of her. Until the previous day, she brought a book with her and read, but as soon as  Katara asked about it, she decided it was best to not give her any encouragement to forge a conversation. Now they were stuck in the silence, only interrupted by  Usak’s monotone voice; “eat”, “drink”, “stand”, “exercise”, “bathroom.” It was so frustrating. What did it cost to be nice?

The only moment she stopped behaving like a rock was when Zuko came by, or, as she regarded him: my Lord. He was punctual, always knocked the door at the same hour, but never stayed for as long as he did on their second encounter. To watch him was almost otherworldly, like  staring straight into flames; so alluring,  Katara’s eyes were uncapable of detaching from him. It was just... he had been the one to change the most, but at the same time, who changed the least. 

He was Fire Lord now, and he swaggered with his head held high, dressed in elegant robes sparkled with gold thread and cut out of the finest silks. His hair had also changed, it was not worse, it wasn’t better either, it was just... well, different. Even when he hadn’t started growing the characteristic long beard of a Fire Nation  lider , he wore what used to be his disastrous hair in a neat bun over his head. That was the strangest thing of all; she could actually see his eyes completely, and somehow, they said so much less than they used too. At least, while  Usak was there. The moment she was gone, the golden irises revealed their sparkles. It was as if his soul had been parted: The Fire Lord, and the teenager, and  Katara was not sure of what to think about  it. How good could it be for someone to be two different people? What would happen if the Fire Lord and the t eenager ever  collided ? Who’d win the fight?

All she knew, was that she saved her strength every day so that when he came by, she’d be able to look as healthy as possible. Zuko already felt guilty enough, it wasn’t hard to tell, and he didn’t deserve any more weight over his shoulders. 

Still, by sunset, when he knocked on her door, the other four members of their small group had usually already come by, and  Katara was worn out from putting on an act for them too. 

Sokka was apparently the provisional ambassador of the Southern Water-Tribe in the Fire Nation now, Sukki and  Toph barely made time for her a few minutes before they had to run out on duty again. She loved those three, but they made her feel like she was a terrible wage they had to carry. She’d rather have the silent company – or lack of it – of  Usak , than having to pretend not to know how busy they were, how much of their time she was wasting. And there was  Aang too... 

No. She didn’t want to think about  Aang anymore. Or about anything. She had had way more than enough time to think already, her brain was not going to handle her thoughts drifting  again to the same dead-ends. She knew what she had to do, what would make everyone happy, but she had no idea of how she felt about it. 

So again, she was stuck on the same issue: Usak.

The healer didn’t understand the power of  waterbending healing. Yes, curing herself – if it was even possible being two months late – would take a lot of strength from  Katara , but as soon as the tissue was healed, she’d quickly recover it... or at least she hoped so. The only time she did something like it, and it was with a way smaller injury, was that first time at the lake, after  Aang burned her hands. 

She shivered at the memory.  Aang always meant good. But for a second, at that moment, she was so scared of his power. What if she could never bend again? Would she ever be able to forgive  Aang if that happened? She was glad she didn’t end up needing an answer for that. 

There was something so different, in being burned by fire and lightning. Fire felt scorching, painful, the flames taking over your insides, too wild to be contained within your body, while lightning felt like the breath was sucked out of you, leaving a deafening void, the crust of your skin charged and flaming. And the same happened  witth healing. She had cured tons of people after fights with the Fire Nation army, including  Aang and Sokka, but she had never healed a lightning strike until Zuko...

_ Blood threads floating in the air, her shaky hands, his pale face, eyes closed. The intoxicating odor reached her nose like metal, spreading the taste through her mouth. Tears, rolling carelessly down her cheeks. Don’t leave me, don’t leave me now.  _

“ Usak , I want tea,” she  bursted out. Her voice sounded like fear. She had to do something or the memories were going to drive her crazy. Azula,  _ Zuko,  _ _ Aang _ _ , truth, lies, lightning, fire, death, life, war, peace _ . Her voice almost broke, her hands turned to fists at her side. “Please.”

The healer didn’t reply, and  Katara didn’t look at her, too ashamed of the clear exposition of desperation she had just given, but she heard the door close, and knew she was alone. 

~

“ ...more than alright, my Lord. She is brand new, almost as if she had never been... Allow me to show you.” Silence, steps, a pressure on the side of the body. Somebody was turning her around. She couldn’t move. She was facing down now. Her chest pressed against a cushioned surface.

“I don’t know if this is appropriate,” the voice ringed a bell, she just couldn’t tell which. Anyways, her body relaxed. “Perhaps we should wait for her to be awake.”

“It is in the best interest of the crown to see this, my Lord.” the first one insisted. 

Silence. Hands got near. Average temperature. Not melting hot, not filled with calluses, not soft as clouds, not freezing. Non-bending hands. Unknown hands. She wanted to move, push them away, scream for help, but couldn’t even open her eyes. Her shirt was raised, her back exposed. Hairs stood on edge.

A gasp.

“I told you, my Lord. She did something impossible in there.”

“I... she did this alone?” It was such a calming voice, like it was made out of smoke and honey. 

_ Zuko _

In a second, her memory was restored. The water, the bending, the blood flowing in the air, the consuming concentration that required to sew the red threads together, pulling her skin tighter and tighter, hiding the damaged flesh below. 

Katara bolted, turning around and pressing her back against the pillows. Both  Usak and Zuko had jolted back, almost scared to death by  Katara’s sudden awakening. Her heart racing in her chest, ready for battle. But her head ached, and she still felt as tired as ever. 

“ Katara ...” Zuko’s expression was composed, but the tips of his mouth quavered, like he was barely holding his emotions in. In his eyes, danced shadows to a melody  Katara couldn’t hear. “You are ok...”

“I’ve always been,” the lie was evident, but no-one called her out for it. 

She looked down at her body. Someone had  whipped most of it way, but there were some stains of blood left in her torso, and a  pretty huge one on the right side of her shirt, near her ribs.  Katara imagined how they must’ve found her, almost drowned in her own blood, only in her  undergarments. They must’ve thought her to be so fragile, lying vulnerable in the bathroom floor. How did she allow it to happen? Why couldn’t she stand it for a little longer, get to bed and pretend nothing happened? She hated herself for being so weak.

“If I may ask, Master  Katara ,”  Usak intervined with her monotone voice, “What happened in there? I read every book on healing, including  waterbending healing and there is no way you could’ve cured yourself.” 

“I don’t know,” she replied.

Only she did know, she knew good enough to not tell. 

The  waterbender had promised she’d never use that power again; she’d sworn it in her mother’s name and yet... yet, she broke that promise  _ again _ . 

Tears knocked the door, wanting to form in her eyes, but she held them back. She hadn’t cried since she woke up and this was no time to start. 

“Katara,” Zuko’s tone was so  controlled it almost brought a smile to her face. Not long ago, she was the voice of reason, and he was the impulsive mess. Then she realized, it  _ was  _ long ago. He stepped forward, kneeling over one knee next to her bed. “We need to know, for your own safety, what happened. How-”

“I already told you: I don’t know.” She couldn't lie to his face, so she did it looking down to her hands. 

“Did anyone help you do this?”  Usak asked.

“No! Stop asking!”  Katara snapped. “I just healed myself like I always do!” Instantly, she realized what she’d done, and even when the old woman’s face was as expressionless as usual, guilt spread over the bender’s stomach. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to shout... I am just... tired.” 

The  Princ \- The Fire Lord, turned his head around to face the healer. “I’d like to be left alone with Master  Katara .” It was so weird, to hear him be so formal, like someone else had taken over his body. She wondered if the rest of the gang felt like that too. Maybe they had already gotten used to it. “No,” he said when  Usak started her way to the balcony, as usual, “wait outside the room. Take the guards with you.” Up until that moment,  Katara hadn’t realized there were a pair of guards flanking the door. 

They both watched silently as everyone left the room, bowing respectfully. The door closed with a  click , and it was just the two of them. A knot settled in  Katara’s stomach. 

“You scared me out of my wits,” Zuko sighed. His mouth had relaxed into a relieved smile.  Katara just gaped at him. He was really smiling, his teeth showing white and a little dimple peeping over his left cheek. Had he always smiled like that? “Katara? Uh-”

Katara blinked a couple times, realizing she had been staring way longer than she should. She shouldn't've been staring at all. There was nothing to watch, just Zuko. Her clumsy friend Zuko. She forced her eyes away when she noticed his reddened cheeks. He did the same, quickly incorporating himself, reaching for the chair. 

Why did he always have to sit so far away? Why couldn’t he just sit beside her on the bed like all the others did? Why did it bother her so much?

“I’m tired,” she excused herself, too fast for it to be the apology of an innocent. It was a straight-up lie. Even with the bruises forming on her arms from the fall earlier, she felt more awake than ever, and just as guilty.

The memories of the blood threads stretching out to reach each other and intertwine, the blinding pain of manipulating her own blood, the freezing sweat over her body... it had been so different from the other times... To practice make use of such a dark force on herself. But she had had no choice. She was never getting another chance to end that nightmare once and for all.

“I know I may get along with your brother,” the dark-haired boy started, “but I am no fool.” His main serious, but warm. He was asking for permission, he wanted her to let him in. “You did the same thing to me, didn’t you?” Katra looked at his chest, where his hand laid, and she asked herself if he blamed her for that scar. When their eyes locked again, she saw something in them, in the way his body was inclined towards her, as if wanting to be as near as possible. “It was no simple waterbending healing, what you did, it was something else.” And in those eyes,  _ she  _ saw something else. No anger, no hatred, just support. 

Support. Like the day they went after Yon  Rha , when she  bloodbent an innocent captain to his knees, thirsty of revenge. She’d never felt so close to losing her mind. When she thought she had her mother’s killer in front of her, she knew she would’ve done unspeakable things to make him pay. And so, she forced him to the floor, the rage within her lashing out, and Zuko didn’t even flinch, didn’t even step back. His eyes were on the captain the whole time, almost as if the man wasn’t the one begging for mercy on the floor. And that was not even it, Zuko didn’t just stand by her, he intervened demanding answers from the man. They were practically strangers, still, he wasn’t horrified by  Katara’s actions. He was on board with whatever she needed to heal. Because he understood pain. He understood missing a mother so much your body ached with impotence just by the thought of it, he understood how unfair it was to see someone for the last time and know it in your bones, uncapable of helping it. He had seen the worse in her, and not once, questioned her for it. 

“I did,” the confession fell out of her mouth. Her eyes diving into his; she needed him so see how sorry she was. “I...  bloodbent again.” It came out as a whisper, a curse she had been holding tight in her throat. “I know I said I wouldn’t do it again but I couldn’t stand being a charge on everyone’s back anymore. I need to be out there, helping set this world straight. And at first, I tried...” she breathed in and out, she needed to keep it together. “I tried  waterbending healing, but it did nothing,” her voice broke at the memory. She hadn’t been able to heal herself, the water had flowed normally, with an enormous effort, but when it touched her burned skin, she couldn’t feel the energy flowing through her hands like it was supposed to. She felt nothing. “And  Usak was going to be back any minute. I’d never get another chance. So, I did the same I did with you, I... I used blood.” She swallowed hard. Saying it out loud made everything worse,  _ real _ . Was she making a mistake by telling Zuko? Despite the doubts in her mind, she couldn’t stop herself. “My wound had opened up when I  waterbent , so I just used the blood to knit the tissue together and...”

“You  bloodbent ... yourself?” Zuko’s expression was somewhere  between astonished and completely lost. “You  bloodbent _ me _ ?”

She had not much in her memories about the Agni Kai. But she did remember, in her desperation, to be willing to do anything. 

“I couldn’t lose anyone else,” she couldn’t hold his gaze, it was so... Zuko... “It was selfish, but she hit you so close to the heart... you  wouldn't've made it.” Her chest was going up and down erratically, and even when her now healed back didn’t hurt, her heart felt near to death, “How could I let anyone else die?”

“How could you let anyone else die?” he scoffed, in  disbelief , and  Katara could only imagine how much he hated her for doing what she did. She played with his blood, she... “You saved everyone that day,  Katara . You used this  _ incredibly  _ rare ability that was meant to destroy and turned into a way to preserve life.” Slowly, she turned to him, what was he even saying? His eyes were shining bright, awestruck. It was the first time Katara saw him like that. Proud. Of her. “I can’t believe you don’t see it.” He took a hand up to his hair, and then shamefully letting down, realizing there was no loose mane to pass his fingers through. “You created another way of healing.” 

“I swore I’d never  bloodbend again,” she replied, “I can’t play with blood. It’s a power no one should have, it’s too dangerous.” 

Yet, Zuko gave her a twisted smile. What was wrong with him?

“As dangerous as a reincarnating being that masters the four elements?” His reply, took the  waterbender by surprise. “Katara,” he called her as he stood up and walked to her side. He sat on the bed as if afraid she might get mad, and she felt the impulsive desire to laugh and hug him at the same time. “There is power in this world that is incredibly dangerous. A power like yours, like Toph’s, like Aang’s, could bring down the world.” She couldn’t look away from him, the way the midday sun caressed his cheekbones and how he showed his scar proudly. Her eyes were stuck in his, even when his words were tearing her apart, “We are lucky enough, all that power is stuck with  _ you _ .” 

“But when we were looking for Yon Rha...”

“You made one mistake.” He smiled reassuringly. “You are fourteen years old and you were face-to-face with the man you thought to be your mother’s killer, how could anyone – especially me – blame you for it?”

The time she’d waited to hear those words...

Her lips barely curled upwards, but it was the  happiest she’d felt in so very long. Her chest felt light-weighted in the most wonderful way. She slipped up, yes, but she was setting things straight. She was using this power for  good, she was going to heal, she was going to make sure no one she loved suffered again, she was...

She was hugging Zuko. Kneeling with the weight of her body on her heels, she had her arms around his neck, face  buried in in  its curve. Almost with fear, his arms went around her waist. He pulled her in and sighed. 

“When did you get so wise and all-mighty, you dork?”, she whispered, realizing for the first time, how good it felt to be squished between his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I am supposed to post updates on Fridays but... I'd rather post as frequently as possible so that I don't leave you hanging :)
> 
> Second thing: I know I said the plot started in this chapter and it may seem like it doesn't but pay attention, there are a couple important things that happen here!  
> ______________  
> Tumblr: @FailedFirebender  
> Twitter: @failedFirebend1


	6. Commandment

#  Commandment

She felt so small in his arms. So small and so alive. 

When the guard interrupted the council meeting, he almost lost it. The meetings were already hard enough, with all the ministers and their judging frowns, and having someone cut him off in the middle of a speech to convince them the best idea was to make taxes directly proportional to the income of each individual... it didn't help at all. But then he recognized him – it was the guard that did the day watch by Katara’s room – and his heart skipped a beat. 

He stood up abruptly, “Meeting dismissed.” 

“But my Lord-” Zuko shot a death glare to the Minister. He didn’t have time for the constant power battle they lead. He was Fire Lord, weather they liked it or not, he was to be respected, and if they didn’t get it, he was going to make them. 

“Minister Fu,” his tone was calm, yet sharp like a dagger, “I may not be Fire Lord Ozai, but I _do not_ recommend you to defy me.” Fu’s expression cracked, his mouth half open, his raised in shock. Zuko’s eyes narrowed. “I said: meeting dismissed.” Those last words came out so firm, he was surprised himself, but he had gotten good enough at hiding emotions, and his face remained stone-still. 

Next he knew, he was marching out of the room with his head held high, followed by the guard, who hadn’t spoken a word. Zuko wanted to run, get to Katara as fast as possible, ask about her, yet a knot had formed in his throat and his Fire Lord position demanded him to remain calm. Or at least to not look like he was about to lose it. 

If only his uncle were there... Iroh always knew exactly what to say. It was always easier to play the part with someone who knew the real Zuko by his side. It was easier to remain focused when the person he trusted the most told him everything was going to be fine. But Iroh had parted to Ba Sing Se the day before, leaving the boy to wonder the endless halls of the palace on his own. 

He had located Katara in the higher tower of the palace, her room right next to his, but also so incredibly away from anything else. The walk up there was harrowing. A thousand scenarios crossed his mind; Katara falling back to her dead-looking sleep, Katara going missing, and the one he didn’t even dare think about. 

So, when he saw her resting on her bed, he tried to focus on her chest, slowly going up and down, not on the blood that was spreading through her shirt. 

Usak said she was ok, better than ok. And she was. 

Now awake, in his arms, the skinny water-tribe girl seemed to have recovered fully. His mind was dizzy, couldn’t find a clever answer to her question. He told himself it was because of what she had revealed and not due to her respiration caressing his neck. His only response was to smile like a moron. Her figure fitting perfectly against his, the never-ending locks of her hair tickling his arms as he settled them around her waist. 

A knock in the door shattered Zuko’s bubble, and reality hit him like a tundra tank. His muscles tensed, but he didn’t jolt back. Katara dug her face out of the curve of his neck and smiled at him almost shyly, but her hands remained on his nape. He could feel the freezing touch of her elegant fingers, the way she struggled to pull away completely. Her face was so close Zuko saw for the first time that her eyes were not completely blue; they had tiny stripes of pale mid-day skies, like stars in the darkest night. And for a second, he thought he’d seen them fall to his lips. For an instant, he imagined things happening, things that shouldn’t be in his mind, things he shouldn’t desire with such violent strength. 

_You’ll make a fool of yourself, don’t even think about it_

But he was already thinking about it, and wondering if she was thinking about it too, when a percussion of angered knocks on the door scared the hell out of them. Whoever was outside didn't like waiting, and was going to be received by a very, very maddened Fire Lord. 

He spoke with his teeth pressed together; his tone clearly displeased. “Come in,” there was no point in making them wait, anyways. Whatever he had thought was going on a few seconds ago, was already ruined. 

It possibly didn’t even happen, and Katara hadn’t leaned closer. His tired mind liked to play games with him quite often; it wouldn’t surprise him. What it did, though, was rise his pulse, blood rushing through his veins like it did after bending, it turned his stomach upside-down, made his cheeks blush and his hands shake. 

_Get a hold of yourself_ , the last coherent neuron in his brain reminded him. It was no time to lose control. 

He stood up and tidied his robes without looking at the waterbender. If their eyes collided, she might realize what he’d been about to do. How he’d thought that her lips looked incredibly soft, and how badly he wanted to know if she ever thought about him in that way too. 

And then Toph barged in. _Of course_ , Zuko thought. The stubborn earthbender was the only human with the guts to demand the Fire Lord to answer his very own door. She glared at both of them and Zuko had to admit it. For a blind woman, she was surprisingly good at glaring. 

He was about to speak, but the girl interrupted. Tolerating her defiance was proving to be a harder task every day. How was he supposed to control a Nation if he couldn’t have his own friends listen to him? 

“I don’t even want to know why your vibrations are so messed up right now,” his eyes widened, the joke of a façade he had pulled up in the last few seconds completely shattered, “Sparkles,” the nickname, oh how he hated the nickname, “there is some riot going on at the plaza, we are waiting for orders.” 

Those last words injected him with a rush of adrenaline and determination that made him forget how bluntly ashamed he felt a few moments ago. His nation was at risk. 

He looked down at her. 

“Let’s go-” 

“I’m coming,” Katara’s words made both Toph’s and Zuko’s heads turn scandalized. 

“Weren’t you half dead or something?” 

“A lot has happened,” Katara stood up and he felt the urge to throw an arm around her and help her. But unlike the last time, she needed no help. In fact, her movements were almost completely fluent. “I just need to get changed and-” 

“Absolutely not,” the Fire Lord’s words were terminal. 

Katara, who was already heading for the closet, flashed him a fiery look, but she was going to need a lot more than that to make him change his mind. “What? Why not?” 

He was a leader, which meant getting distracted by how cute she looked when she argued was not something that should be happening to him. He rolled his eyes just to have an excuse to cut eye contact. 

“Because you’ve just gotten healed, you can’t go out to the field just like that. We don’t even know if it’s safe.” 

“But I am fine,” she replied with a wide hand gesture he was not sure of how to interpret, “I am ready to go out there and smash...” her eyes fell on the Royal Guard, “Who are we smashing, exactly?” 

“Phoenix delirious fanatics,” Toph replied, crossing her arms over her chest. She was surely enjoying the discussion more than she should. Katara, on the other hand, looked completely puzzled. 

“You don’t even know what this is about,” Katara looked at him as if though he’d wounded her. He regretted his words instantly, but wasn’t given an opportunity to take it back. 

“Well, then Toph will just tell me while we go,” she snapped back and turning on her heels. 

“That’s it,” he muttered before he strode to her side. He took the arm she was using to dig in the drawers gently between his fingers. “Katara, even I haven’t fully recovered despite of what you did. You are a lot of things, but you are not a miracle healer.” His eyes were firm on hers, his voice soft like a blade’s side and just as sharp. She needed to understand this was no joke. The Phoenix followers had never rioted before, and no one knew what borders they were ready to transgress. 

“ _I am not ready to lose you again._ ” 

“What?” just then, when her face shifted from stubborn to utterly perplex, he realized the words had fallen from of his mouth. He’d lost control, allowed himself to be exposed. 

Katara had gotten the best of him with her strong-headedness and her desperate need to help others. She did something to him that left him completely naked. His jaw clenched and he swallowed hard. No. This was not going to happen again. Slip ups were not a thing that could happen to him and the spirits knew he’d already had a his fare share of them. 

The young Fire Lord never thought he’d need to do this with his friends, but he had no other choice. His eyes turned to stone, and he stood straight –he had lowered himself to Katara’s height at some point. He thought of Azula, of Ozai and the way they’d taken everything he once loved from him, and just then, imagining it was any other but Katara receiving it, he shot the colder look he could find within himself. She stepped back, astounded. He didn’t step forward to apologize, didn’t wrap her in his arms, he didn’t move at all. 

“It is business of the Red Guard and the Council alone. Seeing you are part of none, I command you to stay.” 

~ 

Even as they walked inside the Council’s meeting room, Katara’s hurt features were burnt into his brain. The scorching feeling of her furious eyes fixed on his nape as he left the room still hoovered over him. He’d commanded her, and there was no chance they could go back from that. But that was what he wanted, he should be glad. He had shown the nerve of a Fire Lord, and left that room with the last word. Unquestioned, except for the annoying little voice in his head, that wouldn’t stop asking if he’d done the right thing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! I know I am late with this week's update and that it is kind of short, but I had some trouble with the ending of the chapter. I didn't like it and still don't, but well, I was way past due date.  
> Thoughts?  
> 


	7. Outside

#  Outside

The sun set on the distance for the second time with no sign of Zuko, but she was not expecting him anymore. And she didn’t miss him at all. And she didn’t want to hear his sarcastic comments. And she wasn’t walking in  circles and looking at the door, hoping he’d walk in and tell her it was all part of a ridiculous joke. She wanted none of those things. 

Which was good, because none happened. 

She strode across the room, her hair falling neat over her shoulders and eyes. She hadn’t combed it into her signature loopsies. They now seemed to belong to someone else, someone long gone. But she still wore her mother’s necklace, as an anchor to her past, a reminder of who she used to be and the loss she went through. 

Her mother had taught her to stand up for herself, to fight. But now there was no war, nothing to defend, no one to save, and she had no idea of how to feel about it. All she ever hoped for had come true; the four kingdoms free, balanced in perfect harmony. She wished the same could be said about herself, but even with her wounds sealed, she felt closer to falling apart than she had in a while. 

She was now allowed to walk around the palace, with a guard watching her every step, of course, but hadn’t been able to. Instead, she’d restricted herself to her chambers and the balcony. She spent a lot of time looking down to the city that surrounded her, but never came around the idea of going out, not even with the deadly curiosity that grumbled at the back of her head. 

She couldn’t bear the thought of being out there looking the way she did, like a porcelain doll: pale, and skinny to the bone, her muscles deteriorated by time. At least, the eye bags were going away. She was done feeling like that, and she was also done crying about it. Instead, and against Usak’s advice, she was training harder than ever. 

The healer didn’t understand what she’d done, Katara thought whilesitting down over the cushioned mattresses. How could she? No one had – or would – explained to her what Katara had done. Except for Zuko and herself, no one knew. She’d told everyone the story of her being an “unexpectedly better than they’d imagined at healing,” which was not a total lie. Except for the fact that she hadn’t been able to waterbend heal ever since she woke up. 

The blue-eyed-girl had tried everything, but when she took water between her hands and pressed it carefully against her bruises, they didn’t heal any faster. Each failed attempt made her grow more and more furious, and eventually, she gave up. Usak hadn’t failed to notice, but after a few questions, she got tired of Katara’s lame excuses and went back to her silent job, filling her skin with creams and feeding her potions. 

Katara stood up violently when a hand was pressed over her shoulder, turning and throwing a punch that was gracefully dodged by its objective. Her sore muscles complained, but she ignored them as her eyes met Suki’s.

“Well that’s some punch,” the red headed said.

“Suki! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to!” Katara gave her a short hug before retreating. “And you don’t have to fake-compliment me. That was terribly slow.” Her friend smiled in return.

“You are just recovering, Ms. Miracle healer. Baby steps.” Katara was tired of baby steps. She wanted to run. But, of course, she didn’t say that.

Suki was still in her Fire Lord Guard uniform; helmet between her hip and arm, the different shades of red crushing strikingly with the soft greens that she used to style as a Kyoshi Warrior. The pants had a cut that exposed her knee, dirt stains were literally everywhere, including her face.

Katara met her eyes, worried she might be hurt. The war had  ended. These things should worry her no more. And now it was worse, because she couldn’t do anything about it.  Bloodbending could only be used to seal open wounds, not internal ones. And without her healing...

“Suki I can’t help you.” Taking her by the arm, the waterbender begun dragging them both outside. “We need to get Usak here now.” She needed help, someone who could actually heal.

“What?” Suki dug her heels to the ground and forced Katara to turn, stopping her march. “What are you talking about? I’m fine.”

“But your uniform...”

“Yes, managing the Phoenix fanatics was harder than we expected but we got it handled. I’m fine.”

The Phoenix fanatics. Katara’s eyes widened as she remembered. Those were the guys Toph and Zuko went off to deal with the other day. 

“Wait. The riot wasn’t over until  _ today _ ?” she could barely believe it. A knot formed on her throat, as another realization struck her. “Is Zuko ok? Where is he?” Suki’s violet eyes narrowed suspiciously, making  Katara impossibly aware of her choice of words, of her first concern. 

“How did you know about the Phoenix riots?” Slowly, she let go of the breath she was holding. Suki was taken aback because of the riots comment, nothing else. There was nothing else to be suspicious about. 

Her mind travelled two sunsets ago, memories flashing in her mind. 

“ _ I command you to stay _ ”, he’d said, the imperative tone of a Fire Lord, the ice burning stare of a man she could not recognize. “ _ It is business of the Red Guard and the Council alone. _ ” He’d casted her out. He’d treated her like she was a complete stranger, a useless bag of bones. 

Her hands turned to fists at the sides of her body. 

_ You are upset, sweetheart? You really thought he cared for a moment there, didn’t you? _ She was laughing, she was laughing inside her head and the sound was like knifes  sliding through her timpani.  _ He only needed to keep you alive so that his stupid honor could remain stainless. A life for a life. Nothing is forcing him to stay now.  _ Laughter, laughter, laughter. It was driving her crazy. 

“Katara!”

She opened her eyes, realizing she was horizontal to the floor again, black tiles cold against her left side. Her hands pressed her ears, trying to shut  Azula’s voice . Suki grabbed her by the shoulders, helping her up. 

“We need to get you some water and Usak, asap.”

“I just...” her chest went up and down agitated. She felt as if rocks had filled her lungs, making them burn and bleed. The red walls around her seemed to be about to fall over their heads, the room was too small. Or maybe she was too big. Suki was a moving blur. “No Usak- Ai-r” she managed to say, the words a dying whisper, before everything begun spiraling again. 

Stairs, guards, Suki helping her down the stairs, she didn't want to be carried, she could do it on her own, lungs on fire, steps and more steps, almost there, where is there? 

By the time the images in her mind made some sense, she was sitting in a bench by a pond. The moon was reflected on  its still surface, white and immaculate.  Its power fed her soul, shaking everything inside her, allowing air back into her system. It had been so long since she last saw so much pure water, wild and calm at the same time, she remained frozen in contemplation for some minutes. No, not contemplating, hearing. She was hearing the water call to her, begging to be brought to life.

Driven only by pure instinct, the  waterbender guided a whip of water gracefully out of the pond. She made it spiral, go up and down in hypnotizing movement. Another one joined, and another, and a last one. Soon, she was on her feet displaying a show of dancing whips. Her knees slightly bent, arms relaxed to guide the whips as if they were an extension of her body. The water stripes spiraled over her head like dragons, catching the moonlight as if it was hers to control, and met to form the contour of a lotus flower, right before turning into a massive drop that popped right over their heads. Katara looked upwards with her eyes closed, andallowed the fake rain to hit her skin in awe. 

Her every muscle trembled with adrenaline and she barely felt the chilly breeze that hit her. She could feel the water in her own body flowing like a well-oiled machine. For the first time since she woke up, she truly felt like herself. 

“Wow...” Suki’s voice reminded her she was not alone. Her friend’s eyes had been taken by some kind of admiration that made Katara feel even better. Even when she had only displayed a silly show of glitter and dancing, it gave her hope. 

She was finally out of her chambers. Her eyes scanned her surroundings, but still inside the castle. They were standing in a small inner garden, barely illuminated by a single light that helped  Katara figure out Suki’s face in the dark. The wind made  Katara’s untamed locks of hair, now shimmering  with diamond -like droplets over it, sway softly around her face. Her feet, naked, were pressed against the soft grass, her fingers moved, allowing the green herbs to slip between them. Just then, she realized how much she’d missed nature. Maybe, she could thank whatever episode she’d had upstairs for reminding her of it. 

They both stood still, for a moment, looking into each other's eyes and Katara feared the conversation that might follow. What was she going to answer? That Azula’s voice haunted her day and night, taking her weaknesses and digging her blade-like nails into them to drain the blood out of them? That after every appearance of the Princess her lungs could find no air? That se was  _ still  _ weak? She’d rather die than confess. 

So, she took the helm of the conversation. 

“I don’t want to talk about what happened.” Suki raised her eyebrows. “Usak said it’s normal for the wound to sometimes make it difficult for me to breath...” the lie slipped of her lips too fast and too stupidly to ever appear to be true, but Suki made no comment on it. 

They both begun to walk around the garden. It smelled like summer and starry nights, and it brought memories of all the ones she spent on Appa’s back, stargazing and hoping for the best. Small turtle ducks were starting to come out of the bushes with weak steps. The Water-Tribe girl felt guilty; she must’ve scared them with her bending. 

“You impressed me there,” the red-headed admitted, “I was expecting you to not be able to bend more than a cup of tea after the last time I saw you.”

Katara’s focus was still on the turtle ducks, so small and peaceful, as they gathered up in the pond. If only problems could be erased with a little splash...

“I’m a really good healer,” the lie came out easier this time, but also monotone and feelingless. 

“And a really good friend, too,” this caught the bender’s attention making her turn back to her friend, “Which is why I’ve been meaning to ask you about the wedding.”

_ The wedding _ . Katara had completely forgotten about her brother’s engagement. She couldn’t say the news had caught her by surprise; Sokka’s devotion to his now fiancé had always been something obvious to everyone, but it did shake her stomach to know she was not there to congratulate them when they announced the big news. She’d been told they did it over a big dinner and they all celebrated for a whole night. Even Zuko stayed with them past dinner hours instead of returning to his paperwork. Katara would’ve loved to share that moment with them. 

“Now you are back, we are planning everything, and we thought it’d be nice for the ceremony to be down in the Southern Water Tribe, given Sokka will, one day, be chief.” She blushed, completely lost in the thought in her husband-to-be, and Katara was hit by an unexpected wave of envy. She also wanted to feel like that, her cheeks reddened just by speaking out the name of her lover. And she realized she’d never before cared about guys. 

Yes, there was Jet, and some silly crush on Haru, but she was never  _ in love _ . Though she should be, right?  Aang loved her. He’d told her so. She  _ should  _ love him back; actually, she told him she did. Which was no lie. But love had so many shapes and took so many faces it was getting hard to distinguish them all. The one thing she knew, was that the idea of the two of them in love, made everyone happy. 

In the background, Suki kept talking about plans and flowers and invitations, and shame tainted the bender’s face as she realized the girl had been excitedly sharing her ideas for the event.  Katara should be giggling and jumping around too. What was wrong with her? This was her brother and her friend sharing the happiest moment of their lives with her, how did she let jealousy possess her like that? And over what? Something she didn’t even know.

“...and we discussed it with Sokka and came to an agreement”, she continued to say, “While my honor guests will be  Toph and two of the  Kyoshi warriors ,  Aang , Zuko and you will be Sokka’s”

The news crushed in her gut. Being someone’s honor guest at their wedding was a privilege, a big one that Katara was incredibly happy of having. But the three honor guests were also meant to spend the last bachelorette night of the soon-to-be-wed with him or her. And Katara had no idea of how she was expected to spend a whole night with Aang’s love-sick eyes on her when she could barely handle his one-hour-visits. How was she going to handle a whole night with Mr.Fire Lord, with his annoying new-found confidence, his overwhelming presence and the honey in his eyes...

She smiled at Suki, her heart hammering her ribs at the thoughts that dripped through her mind. Thoughts of a scarred guy with features craved to perfection, of hands with wide palms and  firm arms holding her. She smiled as wide as she could to hide it. From Suki, from Azula’s voice, murmuring from the back of her head, but most importantly, from herself. 

“I’d love to,” she said, ignoring Suki’s weirded look when her voice came out as a strangled cry, “I’m just incredibly happy for you too.” She threw her arms around the red head, and hated herself because even when her words were true, she was speaking them for the wrong reasons; too desperate to hide the fantasies that clouded her mind. 

It must’ve been the bending; it left her tired both outside and inside. I had been too long since she managed so much power, and now the adrenaline had faded, exhaustion must’ve been settling in. Mental exhaustion, at least, because her body barley grumbled. Just like it happened two nights ago, when her hands were locked behind Zuko’s neck, and his parted lips hit her with warm sweet-scented breath, when she thought’ he’d been leaning in, his hands so hot and tight against her, they could’ve burnt her clothes to ashes in a second. She’d been bending before that and so she’d been this time. She needed to get used to her power again. That was it. She hid the tornado of feelings that was spreading chaos in her heart under that poor excuse. She repeated it over and over again until it was the only thing in her mind and she could relax in the embrace. 

Suki hugged her back after a few seconds;  Katara knew she was  being cautions and again, she stepped up to prevent her friend from asking questions with unknown answers. 

Her hands took Suki’s shoulders and gave them a squeeze before retaking their stroll. Crickets sung low from their hiding spot; Katara hated to interrupt their concert with such a painful question, but she needed to know if her plan was going to be a success.

“Tell me about the Fire Lord Guard. How is it?” the topic felt acid in her tongue.  _ Ice eyes, a stern facet to him she’d never before witnessed. It is business of the Red Guard and the Council alone _ . Her palms turned to fists and nails dug into her skin. She realized with amazement, the stinging dolor kept the memories from taking over her, and kept Azula from slithering into her head, too. She pressed harder. “How does it feel to serve the Fire Nation?” Her words sounded innocently curious, but Suki’s smile wavered. 

“It was hard, to leave the  Kyoshi Warriors. They were the only family I ever knew.”  Katara’s fake smile fell down, too, as she witnessed her friend’s walls breaking down. She’d never thought of how the war had changed Suki’s life, too. She’d once been the leader of a devoted group of strong women who fought along the  rebellion. "But you know...” she shrugged; her relaxed attitude was something  Katara had always envied. Even when they used to share their irrevocable positivity, Suki had always known how to stay composed and think straight, while she’d been carried away by emotions. “They decided to travel around the world to help, and I couldn’t do that.” 

“Are you saying...?” Katara feared she’d misheard the words. Her friend smiled kindly and stabbing jealousy returned to the bender’s stomach. “You left them for Sokka?”

“He also did his sacrifice,” she jumped in his defense. “We talked a  lot before coming to an agreement, but you can see it turned out just fine; He’d delay his return to the Southern Water Tribe and, with it, his chief training, by becoming ambassador here, and I’d leave the  Kyoshi Warriors.”

“You sacrificed your entire life.” Katara was completely unsettled, 

“What about it? Aang did the same for you.” The blue-eyed-girl froze for a second. “Why do you think he is still here?” This time, her nails cut through her skin, blood dripping through her fingers. But Suki must’ve misread her expression, because she stopped by her side, still talking, completely unaware of the thunderstorm in Karara’s head. “Anyways, Zuko had already offered me a the chance to try out for the Red Guard, which meant I already had something solid other than Sokka to make me stay.”

“Red Guard?” The words struggled to come out of her mouth.

“Yeah, another name for the Fire Lord Guard. You know...” she took the cloth of her sleeve between her index and thumb, showing the color to her. “We aren’t official guards yet, we’ve been volunteering.” This caught  Katara’s attention , forcing her to focus.

“Then why the uniforms?” 

“Zuko says it’s to show unity. Anyways, tryouts are four days from now.”

“Four days?” It was not enough time. It was barely  _ time _ at all. She’d never be strong enough in four days.

They both sat down in the little stone bench by the pond. Katara was glad to have a place to sit; disappointment had turned her knees to jelly. 

“Yeah, during the full moon and a day before the coronation.” Suki’s tone changed as she said this word, accomplice, and when Katara looked up at her, she saw a matching smile on her face. 

What she just said changed the game board completely. The full moon made her stronger in every way, her mind more centered, her body more resistant, her bending powerful almost to a limitless point. Powerful enough  to bloodbend .

And then, as if it hadn’t been in front of her the whole time,  Katara realized she hadn’t been  bloodbending during full moons. The suffocating desperation that took over her as she saw Zuko’s pale body on the floor, her overwhelming need to heal and recover... She took a hand to her mouth, horrified. Not a sound came out of her, the cacophony of shrieks was locked up inside her. 

It took her a little too long to pull herself together. Suki was silent by her side, giving her that judging look that made Katara so uncomfortable. 

The Kyoshi Warriors didn’t make it as far as they did on their own, they had a clever leader to guide them, and that leader was now trying to put together the mystery behind Katara’s every reaction. 

The bender looked into her eyes, pretending she wasn’t terrified of her own power. Acting like she’d been ever since she woke up scared, alone in a room of red walls and stretching nothingness. 

“You  _ want  _ me to try out.” She guessed. It was hard to think; her brain had been  dethatched from reality, stretched in too many directions at the same time, and was struggling to come back. 

Suki’s glittery smile returned. She had her own way of being  incredibly feminine and tough at the same time. It was as if she was made of some wonderful crystal, strong enough to never break down and beautiful enough to be a weapon. But  Katara was looking at her with admiration in her eyes. 

Suki had sacrificed everything and still managed to find a new purpose, to settle down in this new world and keep her smile up. Not only that, but she was still there for the ones who she loved, trying to help in every possible way. 

Katara was incredibly proud of her; this time, when her arms closed around her, it felt real. 

“Thank you for taking care of Sokka and  Toph while I was gone,” she  whispered . “Thank you for  taking care of me now, too.”

“Always,” she replied, before letting go.

So many questions boiled in the back of  Katara’s head, so much she wanted to know. She had no idea of where to start, so she went along with the first thing that fell of her mouth.

“Why?” She asked. “Is Sokka on board with this?” 

“I tried to convince him but he is sure that what you need is to rest. But I’ve seen you, and both Toph and I agree on it: you’ve had enough resting.”

The bender’s eyes glimmered, “Toph in this, too?” 

“Sure. We still stick out for each other.”

_ We still stick out for each other... _ the words hoovered between them like a promise and  Katara smiled so sincerely even the purest of evils would’ve known light. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I SACRIFICED MY TRAINING TODAY SO THAT I COULD UPLOAD ON SCHEDULE. 
> 
> It was so hard to write this chapter. First of all, finding Suki's personality was hard, because if I wasn't careful enough, I'd end up having two Kataras. See, they are both - or used to be?- very positive and feminine, always try to do the best for those they love the most. So I tried to trace these main distinctions between them: Suki is more calculative, cold-headed and controled while Katara is carried away by her feelings constantly, she even gets lost within them, loosing track of time and her surroundings. I wanna know if you feel like it was clear or if it felt like you had two Kataras, which would be good for no one. :) Hope you noticed how Suki kind of took over Katara's motherly rol in her absence, but nof fully. She took Sokka and Toph under her wing, becasue well, one is her husband and i like to think Suki saw toph as a little sister. On the other hand, Katara never mentions Aang and Zuko, because she knows Zuko wouldn't allow anyone to take care of him and because I just can't picture Aang and Suki being that close. 
> 
> Secondly, omg having to deal with so many issues in one conversation is exhausting. I didn't want to force them, so I took my time plotting the conversation and their reactions. I hpe you didn't feel Katara as if she was perhaps too exagerated. When i think of her reactions, i put myself in the shoes of a 14 year old girl who lost it all and has way more responsabilities than most of us do in a lifetime.
> 
> Btw, in a few minutes I'll be posting in my profile a new story that will consist in short Zutara AUs. So if you are interested, just go ahead and check it out; it's called "Tristful".
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it and that all this effort was worth it! Love you guys <3
> 
> _____________  
> Tumblr: @failedfirebender  
> Twitter: @failedfirebend1


	8. Throne

#  Throne

He busted into his chambers, blood boiling under his skin. “How am I supposed to gain the council’s respect when I can’t even control these... these _fanatics_?!?” He shouted, taking off his robe and throwing it with all of his strength to the other side of the room. He flinched and the new bandage across his thorax was exposed. 

His uncle walked in right behind him; when Zuko turned, he smiled and took a sip of his tea. 

“Fire Lord Zuko, I believe you are overreacting.” 

He scoffed. 

“Easy to say when you’ve been gone on a vacation the last four days!” Uncle’s smile didn’t flutter, but Zuko still regretted his words. He tumbled down over a chair, burying his face in his hands, breathed deep; once, twice. Then, he looked back up. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.” 

Iroh nodded. He was dressed in greens, with the Jasmine Dragon’s apron still on. The tea shop was owned by him, so it was a matter of time before he needed to travel back there; Zuko couldn’t be mad at him for being happy. It just was hard; keeping it all together with him away. The council meetings were longer, his decisions felt as unstable as a house built over sand and the riots had emerged so suddenly and so strong... The young Fire Lord felt as exhausted as ever. 

He was terrified, because one day, his uncle would leave and not come back and he’d be alone in the throne, carrying the weight of the crown on his own. A shiver run up his spine at the thought. 

“I know,” Iroh replied, “but you should reconsider my words. You won a big battle out there, even when it took you longer than expected.” 

“Yes, and now the council is out for my head.” 

“Doesn’t seem like anything changed to me.” His cheery tone made Zuko’s glare return. His uncle giggled and his nephew wished he could be as relaxed as he was, as true to himself. “It will be fine. You slipped up once, so what? They’ll come around. At the end of the day, you brought them results.” 

“I went against everything they voted for.” Frustration came out of his every pore. Or maybe it was the stink after two days in the battle field. He _really_ needed a shower. 

“Remember, they are _your_ council, young Fire Lord. They are there to council and advice, but the last word is always yours to speak.” 

Just like he had spoken the last word before leaving Katara’s chambers. And look how that turned out. He hated himself for thinking of her as often as he did. Out in the field, glimpses of her would set him off – chocolate curls, crystals floating in the oceans within her eyes as she watched him walk away–, guilt spreading in his gut. 

He stood up, expecting to leave those intruding thoughts in the chair. 

“They are _my_ council,” he agreed. “One I created not to fall into Ozai’s tyrannical costumes by rushing into action without a second opinion.” His tone was firm, but inside, the fear of becoming his father made him tremble. “I asked for their opinion and they all voted against me joining our troupes in the battle field. They said that the Fire Lord had never before been directly involved in the defense of his city before, that it was not how things were done in the Fire Nation, and that they had a reason to be like that.” He gave his back to Iroh. It was easier to lower his defenses without looking into disappointed eyes. “But just like my father, I did not listen.” 

His uncle, placed a hand over Zuko’s shoulder, making him turn. A couple of amber eyes met; shame and pride. “Sometimes,” he begun, “tough decisions need to be made, in order to defend the ones we love the most.” 

Zuko smiled. Uncle always had the words he needed to hear. It was true. All he’d wanted was to fight alongside the guard and make sure no one got hurt. The civilians that joined the Phoenix forces had no fault for having been brainwashed their whole lives into that kind of violence. 

There were not enough units available, most of them busy in the rebuilding of the Earth Kingdom colonies, and somehow the Phoenix cult had managed to unite two hundred people in the main plaza. A statue of Avatar Roku had been built there in his honor around two weeks ago. The rioters decapitated it, trashed the whole place. After hearing that, Zuko’s body called for revenge. Roku was his great-grandfather, and this nation was his legacy too. He couldn’t stand by and do nothing. So, going against all of the Council members, he got dressed in the Red Guard uniform, and joined them in battle. 

He hadn’t been training as much, too busy with the never-ending piles of paper work that kept growing in his study, but the energy of fire had still flowed through him like sunlight did through air. It was heart-warming and implacable at the same time, fueled by his wildest side; the one that would make anything to keep his nation from falling into the wrong hands. Still, the battle was hard; there were too many Phoenix Rioters – who he had clearly instructed not to hurt –, and too few of them. And so, they’d fought for two sunsets and a sunrise. Blood and howls tainted the sky grey, sore muscles and barely fed stomachs growled, but in the end, they caught almost all of the rebels. 

He’d never understand how desperately they wanted Ozai’s reign back. It was as if they filled their lungs with war instead of air, demanding the world at their feet. Zuko had tried to negotiate with the Phoenix leader before, but he had never agreed to meet him; their faces and whereabouts remained unknown. The whole clan operated secretly, knowing they’d risk their freedom by being exposed. But now they had one-hundred of them in the palace’s underground cells. A rush of adrenaline hit him at the thought. One of them would speak, one of them would break, and this madness would be over once and for all. In the meanwhile, the Fire Lord had plenty of other things to take care of. 

“Gather the Ministers in the Council Room,” he told his uncle while sliding his fingers through his mane of dirty hair. “And the Ambassadors, too. I’ll meet them there in half an hour.” 

“May I point out that this kind of meeting should be held in the throne room, Fire Lord?” His uncle had his eyes shadowed by understanding, the wrinkles in his face stretched, as if from his skin suddenly hung the weight of eternal regret. 

Zuko looked down at the floor. 

Of course, those meetings had to be held in the Throne Room. There wasn’t even a Council Room – or a Council at all – until Zuko designated one to be created. 

“I am not ready yet.” The words came out so low, they could’ve been carried away by the wind. But no windows were open, and they stayed there, hoovering in the space between them. 

He wasn’t prepared to occupy his father’s throne. So many dark spirits haunted that place. The red marble columns seemed to be craved in Zuko’s darkest memories, the flames waiting to be ignited at the sides of the Fire Lord’s altar fueled by the things he’d fought his whole life to leave behind, and he was nowhere near ready to sit among them. 

“You do know,” his uncle continued, his voice tender and understanding, “that four days from now you’ll be crowned, and no excuse will keep you from taking the throne?” 

Zuko swallowed hard and gave him a sided smile. Uncle Iroh despised Ozai as much as him, but he did not need anything else to remind him of the blood that had been spilled under the name of their family. It was now Zuko’s job to deal with that, just as taking care of Iroh was. He was the only family that mattered, and Zuko was going to make sure his life was filled with all the happiness he missed raising him. 

“I do,” his voice struggled, but in the end came out totally sure, as if nothing in the world disturbed his mind, as if he was not being dragged down by everything around him. “But the excuse will stand another day.” 

~ 

Zuko spent more time than he expected in the bathtub, heating the water from time to time to keep it warm, too lost in his thoughts to even remember his own name. He was no longer thinking about himself. The Throne Room, the Council, the Phoenix cult, the Coronation, the burning pain over his chest, the paperwork, the insomnia and haunting nightmares... they all became little pieces in a game board; no longer part of his world. 

In this new world, even when rose-colored liquid spiraled around his body, ocean breeze perfume filled his nostrils, and a cascade of curls fell over delicate shoulders, around arms that had surrounded his neck; a face dug into his skin, a chilly breath brought him goosebumps. Her hands in his nape had been an icy caress, but the light in her eyes was more than enough to keep him warm. Those eyes that sent him flying into a hundred different directions. Features delicate, skin like jasmine tea and a tinny nose. A murmur in the back of his head raised, like wings being hit against his skull. But then again, the image of the girl in blue dug him deeper into this tiny place of his own. 

She was bending; eyes closed and a concentrated frown took over her face. Threads of water spiraled around her, thousands of them, as if she had stopped the rain around her the way she once did, but it wasn’t raining. The sky was clear, and the waves of Ember Island’s sea crushed against the shore as fearlessly as the bender standing in front of them. The ocean knew her power and bowed before it, Zuko felt he should too. 

Again, the wings batted in the back of his head. The water around him was cold. But he didn’t care. He just wanted to be back in Ember Island watching the girl bend. He had found deadly peace in there, and wanted it back. But the wings had stopped batting and were now a tornado urging him to wake up, to come back to the board game. The voice in his head shrieked to the top of its lungs. It said he needed to wake up. But why would he ever want that? He was just fine there. In fact, he would’ve stayed another eternity under the light of the blue-eyed bender. He fought against them, but the curses and blessings of his dream had begun fading away, turned into a rosy blur. 

It was a heavy fog, and it suddenly felt too heavy, smashing his chest, filtering into his body, sinking him. I a rupture of clarity, he grasped the sides of the bathtub, pulling himself out with all of his weakened strength. Coughs shook his body; lungs expulsing the intruding liquid; it felt like shattered glass cutting its way up his throat and out of his mouth. 

_You fool couldn’t even survive a bath decently_

He wasn’t even fully composed, and he was already being barked at. _Great_. 

He looked around him; the water that had once been crystal clear was now red, tainted by the open wound in his chest. 

Azula’s lightning bolt hit him too close to the heart, and a wound that deep wasn’t easy to heal. It kept getting re-opened; during training, sometimes, but mostly when hard emotions hit him; it would just bloom like a rotten flower, petals of blood sliding over his skin like a macabre painting. This time, a Phoenix firebender had caught him low guarded, and hit him with a fire blast, now he was suffering the consequences. 

Even if Katara’s bloodbending had worked more than miracles on him, bringing him back from his limbo between the living and the dead, it was the first time she ever attempted something like it. She was scared for the power she was capable of. Zuko suspected that was the reason for which she’d healed so fast when he was miles away from a full recovery. When she cured herself, she knew exactly what she was capable of and how to do it. 

_Katara_... 

His eyes opened in horror, as he recalled his hallucinations. Except for they were not _fully_ a creation of his mind. There was a residue of reality living within them. 

It was a memory from Ember Island, before they defeated Ozai. She had been practicing something new: turning water into thin ice daggers, hundreds of them, so that she could blast them against her opponent. Or that was what he thought she would do. But after asking, she blushed, saying it was only an exercise she did. Bending so many individual threads of water, keeping them still in the air, while others slithered between them, was a way to manipulate water in its two essential forms: solid and liquid. Apparently, as Aang explained to him later, it was one of the hardest things to do. The more daggers held in the air, the more water serpents making their way between them, the hardest it became to hold it all up. The avatar admitted he’d only managed to do it with thirty daggers and two whips. It was majestic to watch Katara do it like it was nothing. 

Even when everyone left for dinner, Zuko remained there, besieged by the scene before him; the silhouette dancing between crystals, the sun setting behind her, pervaded through the ice fragments in tiny rainbows spread over the sand. Later, they walked together to the mansion, like old friends did. 

His head was delusional from the lack of blood. Oxygen didn’t reach his brain correctly, and thus, the nonsense he constantly baffled about Katara was intensified. He needed to get out of the water and call Usak as soon as possible... 

_Uh, uh, uh,_ It was laughing at him, as if it weren’t a part of him, as if it weren’t his very own voice, _W_ _here_ _are you going so fast?_ _You have a meeting to attend and a Council to please._

And even when the Fire Lord growled and cursed the four nations in his head, he got up, ready to face the wolves. 

~ 

The Council Room was stacked. Given it used to be a small study, ten people was enough to make the air seem nonexistent. Zuko’s headache increased with the cacophony of their vices overlaping. 

_Should’ve used the Throne Room..._

He ignored the mockery, and proceeded to observe the faces that surrounded him. 

Zuko was accustomed to the hostility of the ministers, but the presence of the ambassadors put him on edge. After every meeting, they reported back to their leaders, evaluated him. He needed their trust and support to restore the honor of both the Fire Nation and his family. 

The Earth Kingdom ambassador, Peizhi, was an incredibly tall woman. Her black hair, stripped with gray signs of age, always seemed to be in the same impeccable updo, as simple as it was elegant, that revealed the trace of wrinkles starting to show and a couple of stern eyes. She didn’t speak as much, but whenever her mouth opened, concise words came out; an impeccable analysis of the situation. She hadn’t once spoken about herself, instead talking of her kingdom’s interests. 

Lucky for him – irony intended – the Northern Water Tribe ambassador, Hahn, talked enough about himself to never allow a moment of silence. He was the same age the young Fire Lord was, but his head was built for the field, not for political issues; an empty vase over a ton of muscles. That was all there was to the northern ambassador. 

Apparently, Zuko was not the only one who couldn’t find a single reason for him being elected, as Sokka never took his eyes off him. Most of the time, the Southern and Northern Tribe representators engaged in endless pointless discussions. It was obvious there was a history between the two, something they never solved, but that were things meant to be solved outside, and Zuko made sure they knew it. _Several times_. 

Sokka had proven him wrong in that room plenty of times, his mind coming up with creative solutions no one would’ve ever thought of. He was not a complete idiot. He was smart, golden-hearted and brave, and Zuko was glad to have him by his side in that room; a face he could look at that would nod at him in silent support. 

And last, the one person he couldn’t find the strength to look at: Aang. Of course, there weren’t many other options when it came to Air Nomads. It was either the Avatar, or an empty seat in the Council. Of course, when these two options were presented to the young monk, he took over the responsibility. And Zuko couldn’t help but be angry with him about it too. 

Aang the Avatar. Aang the Samaritan. Aang the dilly. Aang who saved the world. Aang who found a way to win without staining his hands with blood. Aang who had been the center around which the war revolted but who had still gotten out with his innocence untouched. Aang who got the girl. Aang who got the happily ever after. And now, he was Aang the ambassador too. 

Remorse twisted his intestines, because Aang was also his friend. The one that gave him the chance to restore his honor and with it, his nation’s. The monk had grown into him, and as much as that brotherly sentiment towards him laid in his bones, the jealousy wouldn’t leave. And now, in addition to it, whenever the monk’s hope-filled eyes met his, guilt stabbed him deep, cutting flesh and bones. 

Zuko knew there was something going on between him and Katara, and that didn’t stop the Water Tribe girl from seeping constantly in his mind. It didn’t stop _him_ , from desiring her. With her fingers intertwined behind his head, their noses a matter of inches apart, he’d lost himself. And the most terrifying part of it all, was that if Toph hadn’t interrupted them, not even his own instincts would’ve been able to keep him from leaning into those soft-looking lips. 

_Nothing happened. No shame was brought on you._

Was it true, though? Should’ve friends been as close as they were? Had their hands been innocent in their resting places, or had they been looking for more of each other’s skins? Hadn’t he been thinking of how her lips would taste and how it would feel to have her body tangled with his, the limits between them blurred and the space nonexistent? 

_It doesn’t matter. She already gave you a chance to prove your worth, now it’s gone. You made sure it was. Move on._

In the catacombs he’d turned against her. The memory came to him constantly in his nightmares. How she’d touched his face – graceful fingers tracing the contour of his scar – with eyes so deeply empathetic he feared she might’ve dug into his chest and found the broken remains of his heart. He remembered her eyes lighting up when he showed up to the fight, and the way darkness came upon them when his fire was used against her. But most of all, he remembered coming home completely empty, having failed the first person who’d ever trusted him. 

She forgave him for that, for turning on all of them – but specially on her –, she could forgive him for... killing Aang. Even when it was not his shot that did it, he’d been a part of it. Perhaps, Katara could find within her a way to forgive him once again. Or she could not. Karma could have its very own funny twists. 

_It is for the best._

It was, wasn’t it? After all, having Aang as an enemy wouldn't be good. Not for Zuko, not for the Fire Nation. If he wanted to restore peace, he was going to need the Avatar by his side. 

Plus, Zuko’s head was only playing games. Since Mai ended things, he’d been alone, not met a single girl. He was too busy for that. Matters of the heart had no place in the head of a ruler. Which was exactly why he needed to get his brain to the Council that had – at some point – started talking again. 

He had no idea of what was going on. 

On the left side of the room, war Minister Fu, had everyone’s attention. He was speaking of a negotiation. 

“... and if we came to an agreement, they’ll back off,” he was saying. “If the Fire Nation were to keep some of the colonies of the Earth Kingdom-” 

Zuko had heard little, but way more nonsense than he needed. 

“Minister Fu,” The Fire Lord’s voice cut through his sentence like a blade. “that was not the agreement I made with the Earth Kingdom King. I promised we’d make up for our mistake.” 

Peizhi backed him up. 

Fu offered him a pitiful smile, as if he was a misplaced child that should be returned to his mother, and Zuko repressed the abrupt desire to leave diplomacy behind. The minister was a grown man, always dressed extravagant clothes – even for a minister – and golden rings with precious jewels, his long moustache fell from over his lips like two dead caterpillars. Zuko never found him particularly charming, not now, when he was working at his own table, and not before, when he used to kiss Ozai’s feet in the galas thrown by the former Fire Lord. He was disgusting just to watch. But Zuko had no other choice but to have him there. The upper district – where the nobles and rich merchants of the Fire Nation resided – had voted him as their representative, and he’d been also been voted War Minister, which meant that he had twice the power than all the other Minister had. 

The Council elections had been the first democratic election in the history of the Fire Nation; it was something that was going to be documented in history books; “Fire Lord Zuko, the first ruler of the Fire Nation to relay on democracy.” He couldn’t just wreck that by getting rid of Minister Fu. That was something Ozai would’ve done, but not him. He was going to make things change. And, after all, the man hadn’t violated any rule. He was just expressing himself. 

“My Lord, Think of it as a temporary solution.” He said, “We give the Phoenix cult a little part of what they want to appease their thirst for victory and use the time gained to discover where and who they are.” 

“I believe that is in violation of the Peace Treaties,” Aang took the words right out of his mouth. The monk seemed taller, holding his staff firmly by his side and with his shoulders behind his back. 

“As the Avatar just said,” Zuko added, “what you are suggesting is not even an option. All nations were promised their territories back and we intend to keep our end of the deal.” This, he said facing the ambassadors. Peizhi nodded. Sokka smiled, and Zuko thought the monk did too, but he couldn’t hold his gaze up long enough to know. 

Zuko’s insignificant headache had been growing stronger and stronger with every minute that passed by. Now, it felt like burning iron was blasting the insides of his skull. 

“I believe we should engage against them. Confront them with our best warriors!” Hahn slammed the wooden desk to make emphasis. 

“Are you st-” Sokka stopped himself right on time, “What you are suggesting is completely out of the table, too. They are civilians.” 

“They are against the Fire Lord’s will!” Someone added, supporting the northerner. 

Before Zuko could say anything, chaos had taken control of the room. 

“They are allowed to have a voice!” 

“Not if it is meant for chaos!” 

“You say that because all you care for is the Earth Kingdom taking over everything!” 

Zuko’s thoughts got tangled in the accusations. His head pounded; blood rushed through his temples as if they were about to explode. The open wound in his chest suddenly felt hot enough to burn through his robes. The world begun swirling around him, too fast and slippery for him to stop it. But then, the words of Minister Fu, rising above the others, brought him back. 

“Our Fire Lord is allowing them to do as they please!” 

It was like he had been hit with a hammer right in the forehead, and he realized, it was true. 

He stood up from the royal chair with brutal force; its legs made a screeching sound, marking the floor as it was shot back. 

“Enough,” his voice seemed to come from another person; a man who knew exactly what he would do, and could not be bothered with the uselessness of their arguing. It was rugged, as if he had been doing gargles with sand. “Not another word, or I'll make sure it is the last you speak within these walls.” It was the thunderous voice of his father, the man he most feared to become, mixed with the voice of the man he desired the most he could one day be. The air around them reeked of putrid terror. 

Everyone turned to him; fear paralyzed their eyes. Sokka and Aang looked at him, but he couldn’t read the murmuring feelings in their eyes. The only one who seemed merely composed, was Fu. 

“Minister Fu is right,” this finally unsettled the War Minister, erasing every trace of arrogance from his face, “I am allowing _you_ to do whatever you please.” A drop of sweat run down his temples and he placed both his hands on the table. He felt light as a feather, yet somehow heavy enough to sink and be swallowed by the wooden floor. But he was Fire Lord now, and he had no weakness. No one could see his trembling knees. “We will _not_ occupy Earth Kingdom territory, we will _not_ risk a civil war, and we will not _ever_ negotiate with terrorists. We will catch the Phoenix Cult fair and square, no blood spilled, and give them the choice to redeem themselves. And if any of you,” these words were spoken directly into Minister Fu’s charcoal eyes, “feels like disagreeing,” A twisted smile crowned his lips. “I’ll make sure they remember who is wearing the crown now.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! 
> 
> I know I'm super late with the update, but this chapter ended up being very long and, as you should already know, I don't like to do things half way. I wanted it to be as near to perfect as it could. But as i know it'll never be, constructive criticizm and thoughts are always welcome in the comment section.
> 
> Btw, I've posted a new collection of ZUTARA fanfics on my profile called "Tristful" and I'd love for you guys to check it out!
> 
> See you- eh- write to you? Okno.  
> Until next chapter!


	9. Liar

#  Liar

A rock flew over Katara’s head. She barely dodged it, and only got enough time to shoot a furious glance at Toph before Suki’s fan graced her shoulder, cutting through her skin. She didn’t pause to analyze the wound. Instead, her concentration fell on the earthbender, who held three gigantic rocks over her head. Katara knew exactly what to do. Before Toph could send them smashing in her direction, the blue-eyed girl swept a wave of the sea, making it rise over the shore and fall right over her opponent's head. The strength the movement demanded made her knees quaver, but seeing the desired result, her forces renewed. The rocks fell, and the tide swallowed them, but Katara made sure it spit a completly soaked Toph. 

_One down, another to go_. 

She felt her sore body claiming for rest, but her stomach was famished, in need of the taste of battle. 

She looked around, taking – yet again – a mental note of her surroundings. They had come to the shore, and elevated rock peaks – high as mountains – separated them from the city. Those same black rocks were pulverized into sand under their feet, making it ten times harder the easiest movements. The sea besides them growled, encouraged by Katara’s bending, its darkness got mixed with firmament in the distance, the limit between them unclear. 

Suki was nowhere to be seen. There was an exhalation, metal cutting the wind in half at her back and, before she knew it, Katara was on the floor with onyx-shimmering sand in her face. She turned to the red-head with a frustrated groan. 

“I’ll get you next time,” she said, taking the hand she was being offered. Once on her feet, Katara shook the sand off her clothes and reached Toph to help her up too. The bender pushed her hand out of the way, mumbling something about going easy on her. 

“We just started training, relax”, Suki’s words annoyed Katara. “We´ll leave the rematch for tomorrow.” 

She would relax when her place at the Fire Lord Guard was secure, when she was strong again and could block a simple attack like the one that had just costed her a victory. And these things wouldn’t be a problem, if she had more than three days and twenty-one hours to do so. 

The waterbender was angry, but contained her urge to snap. Partly, because she knew her fuming inner mess was directed to herself. And also, because she had tried to defeat her friends – something that used to be practically a game – four times, and failed all of them pathetically. Because of her lassitude, and the weight of her arms that menaced to rip her shoulders off. Because during the battle, she couldn’t help but feel that something was wrong, like she had to be somewhere else, and she kept losing focus. Plus, she was perfectly aware of how badly she needed this training, and was impossibly grateful with her friends for it. She wouldn’t have a chance at tryouts if it weren’t for Suki and Toph. 

After the non-bender told Katara about their plan to help her become a part of the Red Guard, something was ignited within her. Suddenly, the future didn’t look like an eternal blank vacuum. It had a uniform, and a date, and she had a reason to fight for. The battlefield, the opportunity to help people... she thought it was gone with the war. Now she knew, the world was still a dangerous place and – even when she only dared admit this to herself – the new terrors that menaced the four nations had given her a newfound sense of purpose. 

Not even in her wildest dreams, had she thought she’d be desperate to be a part of the Fire Nation, but she was. She needed a reason to stay. Something to prevent her from being shipped back to the Southern Water Tribe with her father when he came. If she allowed that to happen, she would become engaged with someone from another nation – most likely an Earth Kingdom noble –, bound to follow a future of loveless, repetitive days. It was tradition after all, and the only way to escape it, was a solid back-up plan her father couldn’t say no to. And the Red Guard was perfect for the job. She would be close to her friends, to Sokka, all while making their world a better place. 

After meeting with Suki by the turtle-duck pond, Katara was so excited she proposed having their first training session right that instant. Suki, was the first one and hardest to convince. She insisted the waterbender needed some rest before engaging intensive training, but eventually she agreed. Toph, on the other hand, who they had to go look for in her chambers, was grumpy at first – apparently, they had woken her up – but jumped excitedly as soon as they told her bending was involved in their midnight plan. 

Now, as they walked back home through the steep rocks, the soaked earthbender, the filthy Water-Tribe girl and the exhausted former Kyoshi Warrior, were starting to regret their decision. 

Suki had been two straight days on the battle field, and that time was written all over her face. She didn’t bother hiding it. Instead, she kept marching and discussing with Toph over the wedding dresses the guests of honor would use. 

Katara envied them. Even when they were doing the try outs, it was merely protocol. Zuko had already given them their uniforms, and they had been assigned to their respective squads. They could worry about dresses and laces and Honor Guests, while she was stuck a million years away. They walked in front of her, and Katara felt an invisible barrier between them. They shared a life, they got over the war, found their places in this new world. They had been next to each other during joys and tears and she slept through them all, waking up so many steps behind, she didn’t even know if she’d make it to the end of the race. 

After two straight days in the battle field, Suki’s steps were still more vigorous than Katara’s. Even Toph’s short ones were fast enough to leave her behind. Their voices were becoming blurry to her ears, when Toph locked her feet to the floor. Katara should’ve felt thankful for the opportunity to catch up, but the closer she got to her friends, the louder the threat in the back of her skull became. By the time she was beside them, Toph was pointing towards the sky, and acid was dripping inside of Katara’s head. 

“In that direction”, Toph said. The other two followed her arm with their eyes, but a sky sparkled with gray clouds was the only thing to be seen. A storm was coming. 

“In that direction, what?” Katara asked, the acid feeling came down her nape like a harrowing premonition. 

“She says she heard...” 

But there was no need for Suki to complete the phrase, because a flying bison, with an Air Nomad rider, swept into their vision field, fast enough for the acid to paralyze Katara’s back. 

~ 

Katara had been the first one to enter Zuko’s room. If it was because the other ones had let her – knowing she was the only one capable of healing him – or because she had sprinted as fast as ever up the stairs, ignoring the rusty creak of her tired limbs. Her body – thinner than ever – seemed to fly in Zuko’s direction, as if a thread tied to her breastbone was pulling from her in his direction. The acid in her system pumped through her veins, dangerously close to her heart, with every step she gave. 

She didn’t even remember the way he’d commanded her, how it had destroyed her to know she wasn’t needed anymore, how confused his words - _I am not ready to lose you again_ – had left her, despite trying not to think about them. 

Because now, she thought while her fingers delicately brushed aside the dark strands of hair that had fallen over his forehead, she understood what he meant. All she could think of was the way he’d jumped in front of lightning for her, Azula running after her when she tried to help him. The exact same poisoning agony that was eating her alive at that moment consumed her now. 

Her grip on his hand tightened, and even in his feverish state, with his eyes squinted and his glowering skin, his did too. 

She was not ready to lose him back then, and she wasn’t anywhere near ready now. 

Her knuckles tucked the hair behind his ear and followed the contour of his face. The rugose feeling of the scar she’d first touched in Ba Sing Se, the pronounced cheekbones, the sharp edge of his jaw and the soft, pale skin of his chin; it eased the acidity in her veins, like the perfect medicine. 

But it was time for her to cure him. 

“Katara?” Anng’s shaky voice tensed her muscles, and she jolted away from Zuko. Her heart, once again, seemed to beat anemic, rushing the biting poison to all corners of her body. When she turned and faced the confusion clouding Aang’s eyes, her heart dropped. 

What was she doing? It had been such an intimate gesture, her cheeks blushed at the thought of all of them witnessing it. Her lips, before laid in a smile parted between worry and easing security, turned into a line so tight the tips trembled. The worse of it all hadn’t been that they saw her, but that the impact in their faces was there when they had just caught the briefest glimpse of the feelings under her skin. Her friends hadn’t felt the exhilarating sensation of peace his skin next to hers had evoked; it had been so warm and soothing that if it weren’t for the bloody bandage that crossed Zuko’s bare chest, she might’ve fallen into a beautiful dream. 

_The bandage._ She suddenly remembered the reason for which Aang was sent to search for her. Zuko’s wound, the one Azula had opened in the lower edge of his ribs an eternity ago, had reopened. According to Toph, this happened frequently, but this time the conventional medicine of the healers was not stopping the blood from rushing out. A bandage after the other was stained in red and then dried into copper reeking brown. To realize he’d never told her, but told Toph, had removed something that formed a knot in Katara’s throat. They were friends. He knew she could’ve healed him once and for all this time. Why didn’t he just ask her to? 

_Because if you had done it properly the first time, he wouldn’t be like this now_ , Azula’s voice echoed through Katara’s empty skeleton, frost upholstered her skin. _He knows he can’t trust you. Remember he owes nothing to you now, his honor has been saved_. The intoxicating fluid of fear boiled vividly within her. 

But Azula was wrong. Zuko was not a monster in the search of his humanity anymore. That wound, the one she was going to heal _right now_ , was tattooed in his body as physical proof of his selflessness. He had no life insurance when he threw himself between the lightning bolt and Katara. His actions were those of a true man, a strong heart that risked a lifetime of beating moments just so that she could have hers. He could’ve allowed her to die – he was so close to his objective, to sitting in the throne and leading his empire back to the right tracks – but chose to sacrifice it all. The young Fire Lord lying next to her had a stained heart, but it was noble and Katara could see that now. 

Despite the trembling mess Azula’s voice had made of her, Katara reached for Zuko’s hand again. Her friend’s gasps – Aang’s rose over the rest, like a swallowed shrill that tore Katara’s heart apart – were interrupted by one single word. 

“Leave.” 

“What? No...” Sokka – who had walked Zuko from the Council Room to his chambers after the meeting ended, insisting on him being abnormally paler than usual – tried to argue, but after his sister’s determined gaze, his intentions morphed. “Let’s go...” He opened his arms, in an attempt to guide everyone out, pushing them back through the doorway they were standing in. 

“No.” Aang said one lonely word, and yet it was as strong as Azula’s very own lightning. When they met the waterbender’s, his eyes had lost any trace of the playful shimmer that characterized them. A storm of unanswered questions was unleashed within the gray orbs. “Why do you need us to leave?” there was something else implied in his words, an accusatory tone that was so improper of him that made the deepest guilt take over Katara, even when she had convinced herself she didn’t understand the reasons behind it. 

“I need to concentrate.” The flavor of lies contaminated her mouth, but was not as bitter as it used to be. Realizing this made her look away, shame weighting on her stomach like someone had filled her up with stones. 

She couldn’t tell anyone she had been using bloodbending as a healing method, because they’d be horrified, but mostly, because she’d have to say that she couldn’t heal with waterbending anymore. And that would be admitting she was not at the same level she used to be, it would be recognizing Azula had taken a part of her that was not only spiritual, and that she would never get back. Saying it out loud would taint her their faces with pity, make it way too real. 

“You’ve healed me in front of everyone before!” Aang’s scream made all of the people present in the room jolt back. The sound of his words was filled with devastating betrayal. “Why does this time have to be any different?” _Why is it different with him_ , Katara knew he wanted to ask. But she couldn’t give him the truth; not the one she already knew, and not the other one that awaited, dormant under her skin to be discovered. 

She didn’t reply, instead her eyes slipped to the others. Suki’s violet ones were already machinating an analysis and Sokka’s seemed just as confussed as Aangs, filled with some kind of disappointment beyond her understanding. Even Toph, who was not able to see the way in which Katara had leaned onto Zuko earlier, and who would’ve usually cackled in the face of such palpable tension, remained stone-faced. Why were they making her feel like a criminal? She’d done nothing wrong, she told herself, all she wanted was to take care of her friend. 

She gave her back to them. Turning back to Zuko. 

“Leave.” She repeated the word, as if that would erase the first time she said it and the looks that followed; as if it would erase the pain in Aang’s eyes. 

Steps, a sigh, and the door was closed. 

She turned to Zuko, whose open eyes surprised her, shimmering with the delirious warmth of a sickened body. A scrambling panic disarmed her, and she pulled her hand away. Zuko’s tried to hold on to it, but his grip was too feeble. How long had he been awake? How much of what had happened had he seen? 

“Talk to me about my father,” he said with distant voice, “Tell me he wouldn’t’ve done what I did.” Katara’s eyes fell on him, feeling the exquisite pain of empathy like mud sliding down her throat. 

She wanted to slide her fingers through his face like she did earlier so that he could feel it this time, she wanted to tell him he was nothing like his father. But as if a golden coin had become stuck in her windpipe, nothing came out. 

Instead, she directed her eyes to the bandages and rose a hand towards them, stopping herself in the middle of the action. Her eyes found his again and she swallowed the coin. In her mouth, the flavor of metal remained. 

“Would you mind taking the bandage off?” She asked, with a quavering voice she barely recognized as her own and a violent blush coloring her cheeks. 

“I menaced the Council today,” he continued, oblivious to her question. “You-” a violent stomp of coughs interrupted him, and Katara realized that even in his delirious state, he fought to keep the screaming in his throat. She leant over the night stand and took a glass of water, handing it to him. He made no move to grab it, too focused on stabilizing his breath. So the bender took it upon her, and neared the glass to his lips with one hand, while the other rose his chin on her direction. Their eyes met as he swallowed. Numbed by the blood loss, he didn’t blush or look away, instead looking deeper, as if she was some creature he’d never seen before. 

He slowly finished the water, and as she retired her hand, Katara took advantage of his disorientation and left an almost imperceptible caress under his chin. 

“You would’ve loved to see Sokka in there, he is really good.” 

Katara was again taken off guard by his words. She’d thought the fever was way too high on his head for him to perceive her presence. She thought he was just talking to the air, but he’d been all along talking to her, as if he needed _her_ to answer. 

“I know he is.” She managed to reply. 

As if Zuko had just processed it, his eyes landed on the bandage. Katara saw the pain cross his face the moment he moved his arms towards it, but didn’t stop him as much as it hurt to see. She couldn’t help him. She’d changed the bandages of every single one of her friends to heal them, but something in her guts didn’t allow her to get that dangerously close to Zuko as he laid shirtless in bed. The same thing that was forbidding her from analyzing his bare chest or anything that was not his face. 

She blushed at the thought of his body and turned her gaze away. Outside, the sky had turned into one gray mass, and a hushed rain hit melodiously the window. 

Her attention returned to the boy when a growl left his throat; his arms fell back to resting position. The bandage now laid behind his back; two carmine-tainted strands that used to be white, open like wings at the sides of his ribs. 

Slowly, she kneeled on the bed, lowering her hips over her toes, just the way she did two months ago. But back then they’d been under a collision of black ashes, and now they were in the gigantic chambers of the Fire Lord, his body laid over a bed as cushioned as clouds themselves, and she knew exactly what to do. 

She set her hands over the injured area. It kept bleeding, the grotesque open edges of pale skin stained in red matched the walls, but she didn’t let that stop her. Not even her fear of the power she was about to wield could stop her from healing her friend once and for all. 

“I’m sorry to make you do this again.” It was a soft whisper; so honest, it tore her apart. She looked into his amber eyes, and saw a regret as deep as the ocean itself and as pure as the stars above it. 

She didn’t open her lips, but hoped for her eyes to say everything she would’ve if she knew how to put it into words, and then made dozens of thread-thin red snakes slither out of his skin and follow her hands. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Early upload to compensate for the last one that was super late :) 
> 
> First of all, thoughts?
> 
> Writing the first scene was super hard! Mainly because it was the first fight scene i ever wrote, so I hope it wasn't a disappointment hehe (Ok no for real how bad was it?)
> 
> I hope you could see the double intention in the title of this chapter. Katara is lying and hiding truths and feelings from her firends about... well, about pretty much everything. But most importantly, she is lying to herself. It could be intentional or not - i'll leave this open to interpretation - but she can't accept that Zuko brings up something in her. Summary: I wanted to torture you guys with really cute scenes and then have Katara be like "Zuko my friend UwU" because I'm mean.


	10. Impulses

#  Impulses

Zuko woke up so slowly, he wondered if it was part of a dream. It had been so long since memories hadn’t harassed him in his sleep... Every night, he woke up screaming, sweated and shivering, with the bed sheets looking like a tornado had struck and knocked him out. The nightmares, though, were not always the same. 

Sometimes, he was taken back and dropped in front of Ozai, once again, defenseless and begging for forgiveness, but his father – tall and all mighty Fire Lord – showed no mercy, and the fire embraced him like scorching claws of death. Other times, the trip was stopped further away in time, and he saw his mother leave, with a sorrow as big as the universe in her eyes – he knew he’d never see her again, the feeling in his gut warned him, and so did her crystalized eyes – but he remained still, powerless to do anything about it. There were also nights in which he recalled begging his uncle for forgiveness, but in that version of reality, Uncle’s face turned into Ozai’s and he laughed; he laughed in his face and told Zuko that he would never be forgiven for his betrayal. But most nights, his mind tortured him with memories of Azula. His little sister, who he’d once played by the sea, drowned in a madness that ripped her apart, her hair falling of her bun and a smile so wrecked he wondered if there was anything of the girl she used to be left. On those nights, he could feel the lightning smashing his chest, the all-consuming electricity that exploded his organs and melted his skin, but it was the heart – overflowed with delirious fear as he saw the original objective of his sister – that ached the most. The last dream, and the worse of them all, sounded in his head with Azula’s hyena-like laughter. He could see his sister on the floor cackling and falling into a spiraling world of insanity, as her lightning bolt struck Katara. Over and over again he saw the Water Tribe girl collapse into the floor. Once more, he was too weak to move, too slow, and the thump of her body hitting the floor, sounded like the world breaking right under his feet. 

This time, his sleep was different from all of the ones before. There was a calm in his mind he’d thought long lost, as if the night had slipped away in only a few minutes, but those had been enough to restore his energy. 

He was still a bit dizzy, lost, which was why it took him so long to open his eyes. The last thing he recalled was being with Sokka walking back to his chambers, his headache had reached a point in which he could only hear static inside his skull, leaving his friend’s voice completely mute. Blood became a denser substance, pounding excruciatingly slow through his veins, and then, as if a switch had been turned off, his body gave in.

Luckily – or perhaps not at all – what his eyes showed the moment he lazily opened them, gave him a brief and confusing recapitulation of what he witnessed after that. 

Katara by his side. Distant. He couldn’t see her eyes. She was facing Aang. He was screaming? He couldn’t tell, but the monk’s face said a lot. Betrayal, anger, disappointment. Those feelings were in Sokka’s face too. Toph’s said nothing, Suki looked just intrigued. There were more voices. Katara turned to him. Elegant fingers found his over the matress. Her blue eyes were surprised and concerned. He said something – couldn't remember what. Words and smiles; all erased by the oceans in her eyes and the freezing hand holding his. Then, a fuzz of blood in the air, tickling his wound, as if his body was too exhausted to process pain correctly. 

And now she was by his side. Kind of. 

The  waterbender was in one of the black chairs, laying on her side and curled into a little ball, with her neck over the armrest in a clearly uncomfortable position. Zuko thought of the skinny girl dragging the chair all the way from the opposite corner just to place it next to him – almost touching the bed covers – and his heart skipped a beat. She could’ve gone back to her room, but stayed... and she could’ve laid next to him on the bed – there was more than enough space for them to be at proper distance – but she sat on the uncomfortable chair, as if he had the plague. He couldn’t read into her actions. 

_ Because there is nothing to read into _

He wanted to rise his hand and move the dark cascade that had fallen over her face. He wanted it so badly, he thought nothing was going to stop him. But surprisingly, something did. 

A hand – cold and elegant – placed over his forearm like a butterfly. He held his breath, fearing he would scare it away, fearing he would wake up and find himself alone in a darkened room. 

He shouldn’t allow her to be so close.  Katara had proven herself a distraction, an issue he couldn’t add to the list of problems he already had. And she hated him; she should, after all the times he let her down. 

_ Why are you still with me? _

Perhaps it was that the words slipped from his mind to the space between them, or that his free hand betrayed him by making its way over  Katara’s \- it burnt over her freezing touch but it was the best contradiction he’d ever felt –. Whatever the reason, her lashes fluttered slowly, her nose wrinkling so adorably, Zuko felt the urge to kiss it. 

_ Stop yourself right there _

Katara’s eyes found his, and the numb shimmer behind them lit up as if the truth had hurt them. She pulled away, and Zuko’s skin felt a different kind of cold when her touch left. 

Her voice was fast to ask; the raspy tone revolved something in him and he had to fight the urge to look at her lips. “How do you feel?”

_ Confused, like I’ll blink and you’ll be gone, like an idiot for hurting you, like I should be pushing you away, but not strong enough to do it again _

“Better,” he replied placing a hand where a bleeding wound used to be. He realized that both the bandages and his shirt was gone, but what surprised him was to find only a faint tint– reddish, matching the one  Aang , and now  Katara , had –. He knew the power the bender held, but it was still impressive to see it with his own eyes, to feel in on his own body. Not the slightest trace of the constant burning he’d gotten so used to. It was almost strange; the itching wound had become a part of him. “Thank you.”

“You lost a lot of blood,” she added, placing a hand over his shoulder to stop him when he tried to get into more of a sitting position; as soon as contact was made, she flinched away. Zuko watched in awe how her cheeks turned red. “Even when I...” Her eyes flickered away. “Sped up the recovery... You need rest.” 

He chuckled, earning a confused glance.

“The tables have turned,” he explained. This time, she joined. 

Only two days ago he was the one telling her to rest. 

_ More like  _ forcing  _ her to _ ...

He shook the thought off, but  Katara seemed to find it a harder task. When she crossed her arms over her chest, Zuko  _ felt  _ her shutting off. 

Her hair was shimmering, and now she was sitting straight, Zuko realized she was sporting Fire Nation clothes.  _ Destroyed  _ Fire Nation clothes. The cloth around her chest was red and hugged her body tight before getting lost under baggy pants that he knew would’ve probably looked horrible on anyone but her. The holes and stains that should’ve ruined the looks, made her even more fascinating. Zuko couldn’t take her his eyes of her. The betrothal necklace caught the candle’s light, reminding him of the time he held it in his hands, desperate to find the Avatar. There was something hypnotizing in her appearance, and it wasn’t just that her  loopsies were missing, leaving the hair messier than usual, it wasn’t even how easy Zuko found it to imagine her living in the Fire Nation –  maybe , in that very same castle -. It wasn’t any of that. There was something else, in her glowing skin, and the  vitality she radiated; her aura seemed to be stained with the same brave violet that surrounded her before. 

He was trying to get out of his trance to ask about it, when he noticed Katara was looking for words too. 

She seemed to hesitate for a second, and he couldn’t hold her gaze when she distractedly took the curls that fell over her shoulders to tie them into an attempt of a ponytail. Brown threads escaped, framing her face. This time, he was the one who blushed and hoped desperately for the lack of light to hide it. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Her tone was again that one he knew so well – the scowling one she used with her arms crossed and the wrinkle that it brought to her forehead. This time, though, it was tainted with  disillusion , and her eyes searched for his – hidden behind his wild bangs – as if they would give her the answer.

The Fire Lord swallowed, but remained silent, hoping she wouldn’t insist. But he forgot this was  Katara , and even if she caught the slight indication – which  she obviously did –, she would probably ask again. 

“I could’ve helped and you knew it.” Zuko wasn’t looking, but he knew the wrinkle had appeared. Worry was slowly letting anger through. “I’m sorry Mr. Fire Lord, I didn’t know your  _ commandment  _ included not sniffing into  _ your  _ business too.” She sounded so arrogantly hurt, he couldn’t help but look, hoping his eyes could say how sorry he was; his mouth couldn’t. “Great.” She stood up, made a fury, and Zuko hated that she looked so adorable with strawberry cheeks “I guess I’m the only one willing to talk here. Good night My Lord.”

Her mocking tone got the worse of him, or maybe it was that he hysterically needed her to stay. Maybe it was both. 

“ _ You  _ are willing to talk?” He stood up too, scoffing the words. He expected the itching pain from his chest; but it never came. “Then you wouldn’t you mind telling me why you are bathed in onyx sand when you were specifically told not to leave the castle?” 

She turned to him. Zuko wondered how could so much fury be held in such a tiny person. But as he looked into her eyes, he got the answer: she could not hold it, and it was now dripping like lava from her eyes. 

“You really thought I wouldn’t notice?” He pushed her, his voice calm  but poisonous , invigorated by having her undivided attention, “You should start behaving like an adult to be treated like one.”  Katara always hated to be treated like a child, and he couldn’t help but put the finger on the weak spot. 

Her face contorted and jumped from anger to murderous fury.

“What do you even care what I'm doing? You have a whole nation to worry about.”

“Hard to do when the Ambassador’s sister keeps messing up.” He knew it wasn’t fair, that he was taking it too far.  Katara was  nowhere near to just being ‘the ambassador’s sister’, but judging by the thunderstorm in her eyes, she didn’t  know that. 

“Great to know now  your stupid honor is saved your friends turn into political assets!” Her words threw Zuko off balance. Was that what she thought of him? That once his Nation was  settled, he’d just throw them off the board? Was that what he... how they all saw him? “Hope Mai and Ty Lee turn into healers because the next time you need  one, I won’t be here!” This time, when he spoke, the roaring voice of his father lashed out.

“Quit crying!” She didn’t even flinch, instead stepping closer in her defiant pose, “Just shut up!”

“Oh, what are you  going to do about it?! Command me to stay?”

“I could!” Everything around him was blurry, and he could only see  Katara’s face, dominated by implacable resentment.

In his head, a battle made enough noise to cover the voice of reason. The side of him that was dying to pull her into a hug and apologize versus the Fire Lord that craved for her to be as far away as she could be. A push and pull that was ripping his heart apart.

“But apparently you can’t answer a simple question: _ Why didn’t you tell me _ ”, she repeated.

Her body irradiated outrageous waves. It reminded him of the days in which he’d just joined them, the distrust in her eyes, the rejection she offered every time he smiled her way.

“You would’ve hurt yourself! You are too impulsive to handle more of  these situations !” his words came out petulant, and he hoped it was enough to cover the preoccupation behind them. He hoped she couldn’t tell that he was the one who couldn’t handle himself around her anymore. 

“I am not helpless!” His words seemed to have waken the tempest within her, and her arms, before crossed over her chest, were now moving like crazy with each of her words. “I am not useless, or fragile, or stupid!” Her fingertips went to her  hair base and she pulled from it. 

The moment she did that, Zuko fully regretted every word. He was hurting her. He was again painting  misery over her ocean eyes, and the moment he realized it, his heart turned into plumb in his chest. So heavy it could  bury him alive. 

Zuko swallowed when she stepped towards him and grabbed his shoulders, forcing him to her eye-level. He could see the flames burning in her eyes, the thick eyelashes like an obscure vail around them, the fainted mark of tiredness under them and the frown over the forehead he knew so well, but he didn’t see anything below her petite nose. If he did, the last functional part of his brain would completely shut off. And it was well known that a man guided only by desires of the heart, was too dangerous to be around. Especially when the one thing his heart seemed to crave was standing only inches from him.

“Is this the face of a weak little girl?” When she asked, her breath caressed his face like snow falling over naked skin. A shiver traveled down his spine.

It was the face of a woman who had suffered enough to be buried in sorrow, of the smartest, most interesting and twisted person he’d ever met, capable of loving as overwhelmingly as she could hate. It was the face of a woman who had lost her way and would do anything to find it again, the face of a woman who took his breath with one look and drove him crazy with a single word. She was the woman that had walked right through his chest and grabbed his heart like it was one more toy over the shelf. 

It was a face with eyes as big as the universe and cherries on the cheeks, with a skin like jasmine tea and the most adorable nose in the world, with lips so rounded and soft he bet tasted like nothing he’d ever imagined. With lips that he smashed against his. Rosy lips that he thought were not going to answer, but that looked back for him the moment he tried to pull away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY.  
> YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW LONG I'VE BEEN WAITING TO WRITE THIS!  
> I know, I know I'm lacking details but you'll have to wait till next chapter (I'm pure evil)
> 
> What did you think? I'm sorry it was so short but I'm kind of happy when it turned out.
> 
> Thank you for reading and see you next friday!


	11. Home

#  Home

She was  completely paralyzed. For a second, her head went blank.

Zuko had thrown his lips over hers, so fast, so determined, she didn’t even get the time to process the anger that was boiling her alive. He had soft lips – contrary to what she thought he’d have – and thick endless lashes that caressed his cheekbones when he closed his eyes. 

Katara wanted to push him away, to slap him and scream because she was tired of his twisted mind games. One second, he was calling her a child, screaming and being an arrogant  imbecil , and the next, he was all blushed cheeks and soft smiles. But something stronger than the logic that  despised him right now, emerged with all-consuming urgency, the moment he started to back down. 

Before his lips left a lass caress over hers, she leaned in, looking for their recomforting touch again, her hands tense at the sides of her body. She had no idea of what she was doing. But the dark-haired boy did, and his hands, that had been gently cupping her face, holding her face up to his, caressed from the shoulder to the tip of her fingers, tangling them with his, and then guiding her touch to the back of his head. 

The kiss, that had started out sloppy, had mutated into something fast that she could barely catch up on. It was as if a damn had broken down, and down the water flowed down destroying everything in its way – logic, friendship, fear, loneliness, common sense. All she could think off, were his hands, placed on the sides of her waist, pulling her closer to his chest. 

Katara felt like she was drifting through the sky, wild winds revolting her hair, she saw vast mountains, she touched the clouds, graced the sun and helloed the moon. The overtaking rush of battle mixed with a  glacial unearthly heat that eat away her bones drained the prudence out of her. Now, there was only Zuko, and the careful way in which his lips danced over hers

He was still shirtless – snowy skin hot under her finger as they slid from his shoulders to the collarbones and then up back to his hair – and she was still filthy with onyx sand, smelling like salt and wind, but none of  these things presented an  inconvenient . 

If Zuko hadn’t pulled from the lace tying up her hair, forcing their lips apart for a  brief second, less than inches apart, she would’ve feared being trapped there forever, not being strong enough to ever leave his warmth. But as the curls fell down, and her eyes opened to meet his, the situation crushed into her brain. He looked at her with eyes she’d never seen before, so overwhelmingly darkened, with a shimmer of hunger and a shadow of  recognizable feelings that paralyzed her. She’d seen her own reflection in those famished orbs, and she had the same exact look. 

“What are you doing?!?” 

She pushed herself away from his embrace. The blue lace stayed tangled in his hand; his expression as surprised as her own. As if though, he didn’t even know what he’d done, as if somebody else had kissed her. Yet it had been him. His hands were the ones holding her like she was made of crystal, his mouth had been the one to tempt her, his skin had been the one to ignite her, his chest had been pressed impossibly against her and his soft heart had been between her fingers.

Now, all that remained of it were numb lips, and accelerated heartbeats.

“I am...” Then he stopped himself and scoffed the words: “Me? What am  _ I  _ doing? As far as I remember,  _ you  _ were doing it as well.”

She swallowed. “I- you did it!” None of them said  _ kiss _ , none of them said they had been impossibly close, and none of them said how insanely good it felt. Now, all of it, was reduced to an ‘ _ it’ _ . 

“You answered, and don’t you worry I also regret it.” His words were so unexpected, air was struck out of her system.

_ Little Katara, did he hurt your feelings? Don’t you regret it? _

She did. She did regret it. It was never supposed to happen.

_ And yet it did, because you didn’t stop him. _

That was not true. 

_ Oh! Think of poor little  _ _ Aang _ _! When he finds out about this...  _ Laughter , laughter, laughter, scratching her  brain like nails against a chalkboard.

Her hands gripped her head, in an  attempt to make it stop.

“I do regret it.” She said it out loud, but it didn’t sound more real, and it didn’t drown Azula’s voice. She opened her eyes, shooting a furious look at Zuko. Furious because she couldn’t stop replaying the kiss, because she couldn’t help but want to do it all over again, because he had switched something on inside her and she now couldn’t take it back to the way things were. “I do regret it.” She tried to sound firmer this time. 

Perhaps, if she repeated it enough times, she could convince herself.

~ 

She was practicing in her room, bending water in and out of buckets, turning it into ice and throwing it like daggers against a wood piece she’d asked a guard to bring her, then turning it back to water. At the same time, she held tones of shinning ice daggers around her. It was an endless cycle, and the only thing she could do to stop thinking, the Azula’s shrieking voice silenced by the sound of air cut by the ice daggers. 

A knife after the other flew and hit the center, marked with an x. The concentration she was using was about to crack her skull and open it in half, sweat drops accumulated over her forehead. 

After trying to sleep for hours – failing horribly, might be added – Katara gave up and started her daily training earlier. In her bed, she had rolled and rolled, haunted by the ghastly feeling of Zuko’s lips pressed over hers. She compared it to Jet’s kisses that had been way too fast and intense for her to understand what was happening, and  Aang’s kisses, that had been awkward and still and just as unexpected. She was far from being an expert on the topic, but Zuko had been soft and demanding, almost as if he feared breaking her but was even more afraid of letting go. 

But in the end, he did let go- well, she pushed him way, knowing he would’ve done the same as soon as he realized what had been done. 

_...and don’t you worry I also regret it _

His words echoed in the depths of her head as she threw the knife. 

The wood made a dry thud as it split in two. She lost focus, iced crystals around her fell shattering  against the floor. Katara surrounded her head with her arms. She’d lost focus, her feelings getting the best of her again. 

A well-known voice, much missed and comprehensive, startled her from the door. 

“Hope it wasn’t me you were thinking about.”

A smile flourished on her face. “Dad!” She made her way across the room and surrounded him in an embrace, allowing Hakkoda to do the same. He smelled like salt and cold waters, like home and snow.

Some  _ Imissedyou _ s and some  _ howareyou _ s later, they sat down in the uncomfortable chairs. It had been so long since she last saw her father and so much had been going on, she didn’t even realize how much she’d missed him.

With a fast movement of her hands, the shredded ice over the carpet had been collected, dropped into two separate buckets, and turned back into water. 

“Well I’ve heard you were a great healer, but apparently I underestimated you.” Guilt spilled in her guts, and hated herself for calming down after remembering Zuko saying she’d created another way of healing. She was a healer. She healed. The ends justified the means, don’t they? His voice, soft and overflowed with confidence – in her, in her abilities and strength –, his amber, shimmering eyes, his lips, came to her. Katara’s cheeks blushed and a knot formed in her stomach. Her father didn’t seem to notice, instead, still looking at the buckets with an impressed expression very similar to Sokka’s, with a shadow of fun, as if there was something expected in it. “You are strong enough to come back tomorrow.”

All trace of red was erased from the bender’s face. All that was left was worrying paleness, a face of pure confusion.

“Come back where?” She knew exactly what he meant just as she formed the strangled sentence. Oblivious to her reaction, Hakkoda smiled. 

“Home, to the Southern Water Tribe.  Pakku and Gran-Gran are excited to see you again.” 

“What about Sokka?”

“Well, he is our ambassador. And I won’t be going nowhere, which means there is no rush for him to come home. Plus, this counts as preparation for chief, diplomacy is important.” The more he said, the worse it sounded. She knew this was going to happen, that her father had plans for her, she just didn’t expect them to come so soon. She expected to have at least a couple weeks, until after the coronation at least, so that she could pass tryouts for the Royal Guard, maybe even a little extra  time to figure out how to crack the news to him. 

Her plan was not even in motion, and it was already falling apart. 

“And what’s the rush with me?”

Now, her father gave her a pitiful look, and Katara knew she was not going to like what followed.

“You’ll be turning fifteen next week,” this took her by surprise. She had completely forgotten her own birthday, “And you need to learn a lot of things before you become... engaged.” He even seemed sad about it. How dared him make her feel guilty with his  compassionate smile? How could she say no to her own father, to years and years of tradition? She had no idea, but she needed to find a way do to it, and fast. 

“I don’t want to become engaged.” She sounded way more desperate than she initially intended, leaning forward and holding tight the arms of the chair. A flash of Zuko’s eyes blinded her, the hurt they showed when she pushed him way, but she buried the memory. 

“There is still a year until you turn sixteen and of marrying age,” he replied with  that calming tone of his, the one that made her feel like a kid. She hated it. “Let’s just focus on getting you home-”

“No.”  Hakkoda taken  aback by her tone, so was her. 

“No?” 

“I want to stay in the Fire Nation.” This was not going as she planned. With every word, her father’s face kept growing darker and darker, wrinkles she hadn’t seen there before suddenly became obvious and deep as dry rivers over his skin. “I love the Water Tribe,” she tried to fix it, “but my friends are here.” 

_ Zuko’s lips, _

_ Zuko’s hands,  _

_ Zuko’s amber glowing eyes. _

“Your family and your people  are in the South.”

She knew this, oh spirits how well she did. But she also knew her home was not her Water Tribe anymore. She had seen the world, known a pain and a destruction that laid deep in its core, the chaos wanting to take over it all, and felt it in her gut; the need to help control it. Her place was where she could make a difference, and that was not at the Earth Kingdom, married to the inheritor of some wealthy, noble family. 

“But my future could be here if you only allowed me to-”

“What would your mother think?” This was a low shot. She was left wordless. “What would she think if both our children abandoned their home to stay under the command of those whose hands are stained with her blood?”

_ But Yohn Rah is not here, Zuko would’ve never done something like that, he is not guilty of her death _ , she wanted to say.  _ He helped me get rid of that baggage in my heart, he stood by me and made me strong enough to let go. And even if I hadn’t, he would’ve stayed by my side _ . The way she knew this, she couldn’t tell, she  _ just knew _ . But Katara couldn’t speak. Because Zuko’s name was sour in her lips and because his Council had stood by  Ozai not that long ago. Maybe not under the name of “Council”, but actions spoke better than words, and none of those people stood up to the former Fire Lord when he  harassed the other nations.

Her hand had drifted to her necklace. 

“The boy in the throne is nowhere near to being a real Fire Lord,” this,  Hakkoda said with caution. Katara realized he didn’t want to be heard. It wasn’t wise to speak ill of the Fire Lord in his domains. “The Council controls him,” he said as if reading her mind, “and the council wants control over the four nations. The Fire Nation hasn’t changed because the head of the snake did.”

There was something she never heard on her father’s voice, as if he would’ve done anything to make her understand, as if her knowing this was the most important thing in the world. So, she nodded, even when she didn’t fully agree. She doubted the Council’s intentions, but not Zuko’s capacity to keep them in line. He had told her during his visits that the Council was only there to advise, but he took the shots, and there were also the ambassadors, who came to prevent chaos from spreading again. Why couldn’t  Hakkoda trust Sokka to keep them all safe? Katara did. 

“I get it.” She felt like she hadn’t said a word in a thousand years, throat dry and mouth numb. “But that’s why I want to stay. I want to help the world back to  its glory.”

Even when  Hakkoda’s eyes softened, that hint of neglect persisted. She wondered if it was a lost cause, if she would be forced to leave  regardless of her efforts and heart desires. 

“You are so noble...” his hand caressed her cheek and Katara leaned against the comfort and familiarity it provided. “Just like your mother. But you can help from home,” he insisted. “There is so much to be done...”

Katara thought of the isolated Water Tribe. Yes, there were things she could do, but she would not fight and feel the invigorating rush of battle taking over her, she would never travel to all those places she dreamed of, she would never fall in a love boundless and eternal like  Hakkoda did with her mother. She would be condemned to a life of monotonous days and a faint memory of the old days. 

_ In the end, you are just as irrelevant here as you thought you were. _

Azula’s voice was heard cocky, so loud, Katara looked at Hakkoda, expecting him to have heard her too. 

_ Each and every one of your friends will stay and live on their adventures and you’ll be the girl that was beside them long ago. You’ll be a memory they’ll cherish, not a presence to count on. They won’t need you anymore. Who says they ever did?  _

Her father pressed his hand over her shoulder but she could barely feel it. She heard the buzzing lightning crackling in her ears, she was in another time, mind lost as  Hakkoda spoke words of comfort that never reached her ears.

And then, the door opened with a  _ bang! _ and her brother walked right in. If he had only spoke other words as he rushed inside, she would’ve been incredibly thankful for the sudden wake up call. But his accusation  widened her eyes, and so did her father’s.

“Stop pretending! You want to stay because of the thing you’ve got going on with Zuko!” 

The guard who was closing the door crossed sight with Katara and quickly looked away, disappearing behind the dark roble. She panicked, thinking of him spreading the rumor, of it reaching  Aang , of it reaching  _ anyone _ .

“ _ Fire Lord _ Zuko?”  Hakkoda seconded with illegible expression.

Sokka was arm-crossed besides their father. What was wrong with  him?, Katara wondered. They used to have different  opinions on almost everything but they always had each other’s back. Why was this time different?

The answer came to her like she had been standing on a calm shore and a massive wave had materialized out of nowhere, taking her down. 

_ Aang _

The Avatar was family too, and Katara had seen his eyes the night before, thunderstorms of dripping sorrow clouding them. Could Sokka be choosing  Aang over her? Or did he have something against Zuko? And why did this worry her if his accusations were false? 

“You don’t want to get married because you are dating  _ the Fire Lord _ ?” Her father seemed more and more surprised with every second Katara remained silent. She needed to get that out of their heads. She was not dating Zuko. She didn’t even know if they were friends anymore. 

Sokka looked at him weirded by the mention of marriage, but easily returned to his stoic indignation. Both of them, side by side with their Water Tribe clothes seemed to be a team fighting her, on her red outfit. If it weren’t for their equally pigmented blue eyes, skin and hair, an outsider would’ve never guessed the kinship. 

“I am not dating Zuko.” She finally managed to say. “He is my friend.” That last bit, tasted like confusion and swallowed screams. “You ambushed us last night!” Just after that, she realized  Hakkoda’s jaw fell, and  realized she screwed up; her face burned. “Not like  _ that _ ! I needed to heal him and they were all suddenly against it!”

“You were holding his hand!” Sokka accused her. “You don’t see me holding hands with  Toph \- Well, you do but it’s not because of that!” They all knew when they flew on  Appa , he was the one  Toph held onto for some sense of security. Katara hated to realize he was right. Their hands  together seemed impossibly different from the way hers had held Zuko’s. She hated that thinking about it made her skin burn from the inside, begging to find their way back to his skin again.

“He was bleeding, insane with fever and all of you were too busy accusing us of something that was not true, to even care! He needed someone by his side!”

“Then say nice words or pat his head! Don’t hold his hand and kick us out!” Their voices were raised to the top of their lungs, their father’s eyes jumping between them. “Do you even care about  Aang ?!? Or didn’t you realize you broke his heart!?!”

Katara pushed her chair back as she stood up. This one fell behind  her with a loud noise. And then, she said the biggest lie she could’ve ever said:

“I am only in love with  Aang , so if his heart broke, perhaps, it’s  _ you  _ feeding his imagination who we have to blame!”

_ Silence _

A silence so deep, she wondered if her words had sunk them all. They  definitely sunk her. Now she was out of air, out of hope, and most importantly, out of freedom. She sentenced herself, and there was no going back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm late! Needed to do a last check and corrections before uploading :)  
> So, Hakkoda finally showed up! As usual, more complications get in the way.   
> Did you think I was going to forget about Katara's family? SIKE. That would've been so surreal, as the water tribe people are known for their sense of comunity and deep love for their faimly. Do you think I'm an amaterur? *scoffs*   
> Anyways, thoughts?

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: @failedfirebender  
> Twitter: @failedfirebend1  
> NEW CHAPTER EVERY FRIDAY


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